


Lacy's War

by thebearsays



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Coming of Age, Dixie Chicks, Explicit Language, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Travelin' Soldier, Vietnam War, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:09:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 34,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24941359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearsays/pseuds/thebearsays
Summary: In 1969, with the Vietnam War escalating and violence closer to home dominating the evening news, 15-year-old Lacy Wilson – the two-fisted granddaughter of Sherman Potter – struggles with family issues, small-town drama, and simply trying to survive another hot West Texas summer. Then she meets Riley Tucker, a young Army recruit on his way to boot camp, and their brief time together will change her life forever. (This fic is inspired by the Dixie Chicks song 'Travelin' Soldier.')
Relationships: Lacy Wilson/Riley Tucker, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: While 'Lacy's War' features recurring appearances by Sherman Potter and Hawkeye Pierce from MASH, Lacy herself is solely of my own creation - as is Peggy - and this is her story.
> 
> That being said, any characters who appeared or were mentioned on MASH belong to the creators of that show.

**** Sibling Rivalry ** **

_** **Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 10:45am.** ** _

" ** **God, I wish I was dead," Peggy Wilson mutters as she pulls her red '67 El Camino into the lot out back of the cafe, but the girl slouched in the shotgun seat with her bare feet up on the dash doesn't even look at her.** **

" ** **Again, sis?" she asks, blowing on the newly-applied purple polish glistening on her toes. "Don't that get kinda old?"** **

" ** **Don't vex me," Peggy warns, scowling at her as she cuts the ignition. "I'm having a really shitty day." Then she finally notices what her younger sister has chosen to wear that day – a short black jean skirt and a white off-the-shoulder crop top - and her scowl deepens.** **

" ** **Lacy Ann Wilson, you can't work in the cafe dressed like that! It's not decent."** **

_**Now** _ ****Lacy glances up, her green eyes narrowed behind a veil of disheveled blonde hair.** **

" ** **Says who, you? An' you ain't Ma, so quit triple-namin' me."** **

****Peggy gives Lacy a glare meant to fry her graveyard dead, then sighs and wonders if maybe, despite having the same color hair and eyes, one of them might be adopted.** **

****While Peggy herself is short and curvy, with pixie-cut hair and a larger bust, Lacy is tall and slender with long, tanned legs and small upthrust breasts.** **

****And much longer hair, which Peggy hates most of all.** **

****As if reading her mind, Lacy pulls a hairbrush from her purse and – ignoring the other girl completely – begins dragging it through her messy locks.** **

****Peggy's temper flares. "Damnit, Lacy, put down that brush and look at me! This ain't about Ma, 'cause Lord knows she lets you run wild anyway, but maybe you oughtta heed _me_ more than you do. I _am_ six years older'n you."** **

" ** **Makes you twenty-one, not God." Lacy attacks her hair with several more hard strokes, drops the brush back into her purse, and opens the passenger door. "Listen, Peg, thanks for droppin' me off, really, but I best get on inside 'fore Ma has a hissy."** **

****She starts to slide out of the pickup, but Peggy's voice stops her.** **

" ** **Wait!"** **

****Lacy blows out an exasperated breath. "Now what?"** **

" ** **Shouldn't you have worn a bra for once in your life? That top is almost see-through!"** **

****Lacy looks down at herself and flashes Peggy a wicked grin. "It is, ain't it? You reckon maybe I'll make enough tips today to finally buy that new Guess Who album?"** **

****Then she's gone, slamming her door and jogging barefooted toward her mother's cafe.** **


	2. Chapter 2

** At The Cafe **

**_Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 11am._ **

**Evvie's Place, known informally in Rebel Creek as The Barefoot Cafe, sits just off the highway and within spitting distance of the fast-moving stream that gave the town its name.**

**And best of all in the middle of a hot-as-hell West Texas summer, the cafe is air-conditioned.**

**As Lacy enters by the back door, the cold air hits her like a slap, stiffening her nipples and curling her toes, and she pauses with her eyes closed to savor the feeling.**

**_This must be what Heaven feels like._ **

**"Forget your shoes again?"**

**Her eyes fly open to see 43-year-old Evelyn Wilson smirking at her from across the kitchen.**

**"You should talk, Ma," she says, eyeing her mother's own unshod feet. "And my flip-flops are lurking around here somewhere, so I'm good."**

**"Mine, too." Evelyn watches through the window as Peggy's pickup peels out of the lot in a spray of gravel. "Were you and your sister tormenting each other just now?"**

**"Hell, we do that just by breathin' the same air." Lacy shrugs one bare shoulder. "She said I was vexin' her 'cause I didn't fall for her drama-queen crap."**

**"What else did she say?"**

**"That you let me run wild and that I need a bra under this top." She grins. "I told her I'll make more tips this way."**

**Evelyn laughs at that. "Bras are so overrated."**

**"Like shoes," Lacy replies, and she and her mom fist-bump each other.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Lacy And Riley Meet **

**_Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 3pm._ **

**The bus station in Rebel Creek consists of two wooden benches in front of the cafe, a sign on a metal pole that reads simply 'BUS', and a four-hour layover before the 7:15 bus to Fort Ord is even due.**

**So with time to kill and no better place to kill it, Riley Tucker – two days past his eighteenth birthday and wearing combat boots, camouflage pants, and a _Property of the U.S. Army_ t-shirt - decides to check out the cafe.**

* * *

**"Lacy, go help that man, will you? Get the door for him at least."**

**Lacy follows Evelyn's gaze to the front of the cafe, where a young soon-to-be soldier is struggling to get an over-stuffed gunnysack through the door.**

**_Jesus,_ she thinks, hurrying to hold the door for him, _that thing must weigh as much as he does._**

**"Thanks," he says, smiling shyly at her, and Lacy finds herself lost in the bluest eyes she's ever seen. Her heart actually skips a beat, something she'd thought only ever happened in the steamy romances her mom reads.**

**"Come on," she mutters as she leads him to an empty booth, flustered by the sudden rush of heat down low in her belly. "You an' that bag can sit right here."**

**He sets his gunnysack upright on the seat by the window and slides in next to it, totally entranced by the barefoot girl standing there in her denim miniskirt and skimpy top, no bra, and her blonde hair trying desperately to escape the red ribbon holding it back in a half-assed ponytail.**

**He wonders what it would feel like to untie the ribbon and bury his hands in all that silky hair.**

**He looks down, trying to distract himself from the sudden stirring in his crotch, but the sight of her purple toenails almost does him in.**

**"Shouldn't you be wearing shoes?" he mutters, and she arches a brow at his annoyed tone.**

**"I ditched my flip-flops when the lunch rush died down, but if my barefooted self bothers you _that_ bad, I can go fetch 'em."**

**"Oh, hell," he says, disgusted with himself. "Look, miss, I'm sorry, okay? I got no problem with your bare feet. I think they're kinda _cute_ , actually."**

**His words surprise both of them, and Lacy fights a sudden urge to sit on his lap.**

**"I'm Lacy, by the way," she says, feeling her cheeks flush. "An' thanks for sayin' that."**

**"Hey, just bein' honest. And mostly folks call me Riley."**

**"Pleased t'meetcha," she says, offering her hand for him to shake, which he does. Then there's a moment where they just look at each other.**

**"Lacy, I hope this ain't too bold of me," Riley says finally, "but would you mind sittin' here with me for a while? I could use the company."**

**"I'd love to, 'cept Ma don't like me socializin' while I'm still on the clock."**

**"Oh." He looks so disappointed her heart aches. "When does your shift end?"**

**"I'm off in an hour, an' I know the perfect spot to hang out 'til your bus comes."**

**"Okay, darlin', but only on one condition."**

**Again he gives her that shy smile, and again her tummy goes all warm and mushy on her.**

_**He called me darlin'.** _

**"Anything you want," she says saucily, but instead of a naked romp in the creek all he asks for is cherry pie and coffee.**

**"Ain't got pie, but Ma makes a mean cherry cobbler. How 'bout I bring you a piece?"**

**"Make it two,"** **he says, then impulsively pulls the ribbon from her hair and slips it into his gunnysack.**

**"You an' me are gonna get along," Lacy says as her hair tumbles free and she floats off to fill his order.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Evelyn Chats With Bob **

**_Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 4pm._ **

**After Lacy leaves with her soldier in tow, Evelyn ponders the instant chemistry between them, aware that her daughter has always worn her heart on her sleeve and appears to be doing so again.**

**But this feels different, and she worries that this Riley Tucker fellow is three years older than her youngest child and might have nefarious designs on the girl.**

_**And what designs does Lacy have?** _

**The thought nags at her, but she pushes it away and returns to getting the cafe ready for the dinner rush. She is not paying attention and almost trips on one of Lacy's abandoned flip-flops.**

**"Damnit," she mutters, kicking it aside and looking around for the other one, which appears to be playing hide-and-seek with her.**

**She slips out of her own flip-flops and smiles, thinking how alike she and Lacy have become, especially since Bob – an avowed anti-feminist – isn't around to stifle her anymore.  
**

**It was Lacy, born barefoot and braless and happy to stay that way, who'd taught her to rebel, to wear her hair down, to paint her toes, to enjoy the feel of wet grass under her bare feet, and who ultimately convinced her to burn every bra she owned.**

**Peggy, of course, had been horrified, calling them both heathens and vowing she'd never burn a brassiere if you paid her.**

**"Your tits are too big to risk it," Lacy smarted off, which effectively ended Peggy's end of _that_ conversation.**

**"Speak of the devil," Evelyn says aloud as the cafe phone interrupts her thoughts, but it isn't her oldest daughter on the other end, it's Bob, calling collect from somewhere in California.**

**The first thing he says after she accepts the charges is, "Hi, Evvie."**

**The first thing _she_ says is, "What the hell do _you_ want?"**

**Silence, then Bob's whiny voice in her ear: "Jesus, babe, can't anyone in my own family be civil? I mean, Christ, Peg's the only one who'll even talk to me, and according to her you and Lacy are a couple of hippie chicks, and my son is a damn coward."**

**Evelyn feels her hackles rise. "We're not your family anymore, Bob, not since Lacy ran you off, and Stuart is no coward. He went to Canada because he didn't feel like being shipped off to some jungle to shoot people who are no threat to us."**

**"No threat? They're commies, aren't they?"**

**"Yeah, in a tiny country halfway around the world that, again, is no threat to this one."**

**"I won't argue with you when you obviously have no idea what you're talking about."**

**"Fuck you, Bob. And quit calling collect."**

**She slams down the receiver, wishing she'd been the one who busted him in their bed with some naked hussy, 'cause if she had, the damn cops woulda never found his body.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Bare Feet And Army Boots **

**_Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 4:15pm._ **

**As they walk the half mile or so between the back of the cafe and the creek, the stiff, muggy breeze whipping Lacy's hair across her face doesn't quite distract her from the concerned glances Riley keeps sending her way.**

**"What's wrong? Why you peekin' at me all worried?"**

**He looks embarrassed. "Doesn't it hurt, walkin' on all this gravel an' shit?"**

**"Not even. I'm used to bein' barefooted." She smacks his arm. "An' besides, I'll take gravel over those combat boots _you_ got on any damn day."**

**"You got me there," he agrees, looking down at the offending footwear. Then he looks at Lacy's pretty feet again and blushes before changing the subject. "So how long has your mom owned the cafe? You two make a great team."**

**"Thank you," Lacy replies, pleased by his words. "My grandpa helped her buy it last year after the lady who ran the place before decided to retire."**

**Riley's brow goes up in surprise. "Your grandpa helped her? Not your dad?"**

**"Daddy's gone," she says flatly. "An' he don't like that Ma has her own life now instead of needin' some asshole like him to take care of her."**

**At this Riley raises both brows. "So he's not around anymore? I'd offer my sympathy, but you don't seem to want any."**

**Lacy shakes her head. "Hell, no. He's lucky I didn't blow his head off, and the skank's, too."**

**Riley grins. "Now that's a story I'd like to hear."**

**"Okay, but I've only ever told Grandpa all of it."**

**"Tell me, too," he says, so she does. And when, halfway through the telling, Riley reaches for her hand and squeezes it, Lacy feels herself falling for him hard.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Makin' Grandpa Proud **

** _Thursday, June 6, 1968 - 12:40pm._ **

**She'd gotten home early that afternoon, her two-day class trip to Austin cancelled in the wake of Robert Kennedy's assassination, and the first thing she noticed was her father's new BMW all shiny and black in the driveway.**

**Where it most definitely did _not_ belong right then.**

**"Daddy, I'm home," she called out, letting herself into the house and wondering what the hell _he_ was doing home.**

**_It ain't like he cares about RFK bein' dead,_ she thought, ditching her backpack just inside the door. _He hated the man._**

**She headed for the kitchen for a snack, only to be detoured by the muffled sounds coming from her parents' bedroom.**

_**What the fuck?** _

**Never a girl to shy away from bad situations, Lacy marched up to the closed bedroom door and threw it open.**

**And saw Bob Wilson, her father, lying naked in bed with a lady who was not her mother.**

**"Shit, Daddy!"**

**Lacy glared at them, too disgusted and angry to be mortified by their shameless nudity.**

**Then she kicked off her sneakers - which, as most everyone _else_ in Rebel Creek already knew, meant Lacy Wilson was ready to initiate some serious shit.**

**_If I had a gun I'd shoot 'em both._ **

**_Okay, not really, but I could maybe scare them half to death instead._ **

**_That_ thought worked for her, so she padded barefoot toward the nightstand on Bob's side of the bed as he hurriedly put on a pair of boxers and blustered at her.**

**"Damnit, Lacy, didn't we teach you better than to barge into a man's room like some crazy goddamn lunatic?"**

**"You ain't _seen_ me crazy yet," Lacy assured him. "But next time you're gonna shag some slut in here while Ma's at work, you might wanna lock the door first." She opened the drawer of his night table and reached in. "An' if you reckon that your crazy, lunatic _daughter_ might catch you, you should prob'ly lock your loaded pistol in a safe or something."**

**She turned to face them, Bob's snub-nosed .38 held loosely in her steady right hand.**

**"Y'all need to leave now, 'fore Ma gets home."**

**Bob wanted to bluster some more, but he knew Sherm Potter had taught the girl to shoot, just like he'd once taught Evvie. And if it was his wife standing here now instead of Lacy, there'd be blood on the carpet and he'd be dead.**

**Ten minutes later they were dressed and gone, and Lacy - after putting Bob's gun back where she'd found it - stalked over to the phone and called her grandfather.**

**"Hello, Sherman T. Potter speaking."**

**"Hey, Grandpa. It's me."**

**"Hi there, kiddo, long time no hear. How's things in Rebel Creek?"**

**"Like shit," she answered bluntly, then told him the whole story.**

**"Always knew that boy was a jackass," Grandpa said when she was done. "But you, my dear, are a chip off the old Potter block."**

**For Lacy, the love and pride in his voice right then were too much, and, to her utter dismay, she burst into tears.**


	7. Chapter 7

**On The Pier**

**_Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 5pm. _ **

_**He can't keep his eyes off her.** _

**Not only that, but the mere sight of her now, as they sit facing each other on the dilapidated pier, has him in an obvious state of arousal.**

**"You know," he says, more than a little embarrassed, "a proper lady, with legs that damn sexy and a skirt that damn short, should not be sitting cross-legged on an old pier where a gentleman might see her underwear."**

**Lacy narrows her eyes at him. "You complainin', or just makin' small talk?"**

**"Neither one, but-"**

**"Then hush up, will you? I ain't no lady, just a girl who wouldn't know _proper_ if it bit her on the ass. And judgin' by _that,_ " - she gestures at the bulge in his trousers - "you ain't no gentleman, neither, so whatever."**

**With that, she jumps to her feet, shimmies out of her skirt, and stands before him in just her smiley-face panties and gauzy, barely-there top.**

**Then, with a running start and a rebel yell, Lacy cannonballs herself into the creek.**

**She stays below the surface long enough to make him nervous, then pops back up laughing joyously and grinning at him from behind a partial curtain of sodden blonde hair.**

**"Lady, my skinny white ass!" she hollers, then dunks herself under again.**

**And just like that, Riley Tucker knows what it means to fall head-over-heels crazy for someone.**

_**Damn that Army recruiter for ever convincing him a stint in Vietnam was somehow better than a full academic ride to Texas A &M.** _

_**Damn him straight to hell.** _

* * *

**A little later, with Lacy still in just her panties and now _very_ see-through top, they again sit facing each other on the pier as she dries her dripping self with a towel she'd swiped from his gunnysack.**

**Riley watches her wring out her long hair, debating with himself, then finally just says what's been on his mind almost since they'd met.**

**"Hey, Lacy?"**

**"Hmmm?"**

**"I bet you prob'ly got a boyfriend, with all that sass and pretty hair, but I don't care, okay? I'm gonna ask you anyway."**

**"Ask me what?"**

**"Well, it's like this," he says, running a shaky hand** **over his close-cropped brown hair. "M** **y folks are gone, an' no one else back in Slaton ever gave a fuck, so I was sorta hopin' you wouldn't mind me sendin' you a letter sometime when I'm feelin' low."**

**"Mind, hell. I'll be mad if you _don't_ write." She pauses, angrily wiping away the sudden tears blurring her eyes. "But just so you know, I don't have a boyfriend, just some guy who thought he was, but I broke it off with _him_ a few weeks ago."**

**"How come?"**

_**He would ask me that.** _

**Lacy looks at him a long moment, an unspoken challenge glittering in her green eyes.**

**"'Cause he called my brother a pussy for choosing Canada over killing people."**

**And Riley, knowing that whatever fragile bond they share hinges on how he responds, puts his hands up in a _don't-shoot-me_ gesture.**

**"Hey, to each his own. I only signed up 'cause the recruiter sold me on how vital this _police-action_ in Southeast Asia is, like he couldn't even call it a fuckin' war." Again he runs a hand over his hair. "So yeah, right now Canada don't sound so bad, especially after these last couple hours with you."**

**They stare at each other, each feeling what's there between them, then Lacy scoots over next to him and climbs onto his lap.**

**"Kiss me," she pleads, desire and desperation darkening her eyes, and when their lips meet and their tongues dance, the world around them fades away.**

**The kiss deepens, and after a while when Riley's hands start to explore, Lacy doesn't stop him.**

_**She's too busy doing some exploring of her own.** _

* * *

**In the end, much to Lacy's disappointment, they stop just short of actually making love, maybe because some small part of her is still a lady and some part of him is still a gentleman.**

_**Or maybe not.** _

**In any case, when she sees Riley onto his bus at 7:15, he has purple toenails on his feet and a bottle of nail polish remover in his gunnysack, along with the hair ribbon he'd snatched right off her head and one surprise, an almost-dry pair of smiley-face underwear she'd impulsively snuck into the bag when he wasn't looking.**

**And Lacy? She walks home panty-less, but with Riley's old ROTC nametag and Slaton High class ring in her purse, and the taste of his kisses still on her tongue.**

**What more could a girl want?**


	8. Chapter 8

** Catfight  **

** _Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 10pm._ **

**That evening Lacy sits perched on the edge of her unmade bed, wearing maroon-and-black gym shorts and an old pajama top of Stuart's which is missing its top four buttons and which Peggy claims makes her look like a half-naked slut.**

**_She's just a jealous twerp,_ Lacy thinks, _who never liked me anyway._**

**_An' it ain't like I ever cared, neither._ **

**She considers Peg a liar and a bully, and jokes to her friends that those are her sister's _nicer_ qualities. But tonight, just hours after seeing Riley off for California – hours after he'd kissed her senseless, for God's sake – Lacy is in no mood for the older girl's bullshit.**

**Not one bit.**

**So when Peggy stalks into the bedroom they used to share to tell her their father had called the cafe earlier, Lacy barely shrugs.**

**"Ma told me."**

**"She cussed at him and hung up."**

**"She told me that, too. But that didn't happen 'til Daddy basically called her stupid."**

**"Well she is, sometimes. Like trying to argue with him about the war."**

**"Go away." Lacy looks down at her bare feet, letting her damp, just-washed hair fall forward to hide her face and tickle her toes.**

**But Peggy has no intention of leaving and goes on as if Lacy had not even spoken.**

**"Doesn't it bother you, Lace, the way Ma and Daddy barely speak to each other anymore?"**

**"Why should it bother me? He fuckin' _cheated_ on her!"**

**"Maybe, but it's _your_ fault he's gone. Whatever you thought you saw, you shoulda kept it to yourself."**

**Lacy looks up, glaring through her hair.**

**"You're delusional. Either that, or you an' Brody been smokin' too much of that shit he grows in his mama's basement."**

**Peggy turns livid. "You keep shut about that, Lacy, or I'll tell Ma you were on the pier tonight swapping spit with some soldier."**

**Lacy's on her feet now, almost nose-to-nose with her sister.**

**"His name's Riley, an' Ma already knows about him." She shakes back her hair. "You need to quit spyin' on me."**

**"I wasn't spying. It was Ma who told me y'all went to the pier, and when you got home your lips were all bee-stung." She smirks, eyeing Lacy's gaping pajama top. "Keep it up, sis, and pretty soon Stuart won't be the only one disgracing our family."**

**With an incoherent cry Lacy plants her fist right on Peggy's nose, then takes her to the floor. Punching and clawing, the two girls batter each other mercilessly, and by the time Evelyn arrives to break them up, Lacy is bloody and wild, with Stuart's pajama top now missing _all_ its buttons.**

**Evelyn is not pleased, this is only one of many knock-down-drag-outs she's refereed since Lacy got old enough to hold her own against Peggy.**

**"Okay, ladies," she says, knowing Lacy hates the word being used on her, "who started the fracas this time?"**

**Neither girl answers, each glaring daggers at the other and showing her defiance in a different way. Peggy is the controlled one, standing with her arms crossed over her ample and well-concealed chest, while Lacy stands with hands on hips, her own smaller breasts almost bare as they rise and fall with each ragged breath she takes.**

**She is the warrior in the family, more like her grandfather than Evelyn has ever cared to admit, but mostly it is Lacy she looks to when push comes to shove.**

**_Like now._ **

**"Lacy, you first, since you're the one most likely to give me a straight answer."**

**"Okay," Lacy says, ignoring her sister's glare. "But if I tell you all the shit Peggy said, I'll be the one pulling _y'all_ apart."**

**Evelyn arches a brow. "That bad?"**

**Lacy nods, her gaze back on Peggy, who mouths the words _'Fuck you'_ at her.**

**"Oh, I'm sorry," Lacy hisses. "I didn't hear that." She extends her right middle finger toward the carpet. "Can you hear mine? Lemme turn it up for you."**

**Eyes glittering, she slowly rotates her hand so Peggy gets the newly-upraised digit – and the message behind it - just an inch from her still-bloody nose.**

**And just like that, Evelyn has to separate them again.**

**"Enough, you two! Peggy, come with me to the living room, it's time for a family pow-wow. And you," - she points at Lacy - "put on a t-shirt or something and meet us downstairs."**

**She leaves, dragging Peggy with her, while Lacy takes off the ruined top and replaces it with a tie-dyed blouse she'd designed herself.**

**Then, bare-legged and barefoot, she heads down to see what Evelyn has in store for her and Peggy.**


	9. Chapter 9

**The Pow-Wow From Hell **

**_Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 10:35pm._ **

**Lacy comes into the living room, feeling rather wicked with her blouse half-unbuttoned in honor of Stuart's murdered pajama top, which – damn Peggy to hell – had been her favorite nightshirt.**

_**Man, I wish Riley could see me like this.** _

**The thought catches her off-guard, she's not boy-crazy by nature, or a girl whose nipples go hard at the slightest horny thought that comes her way.**

**Then again, she's never met a boy like Riley before, never felt so cherished as she did in his arms, and more than anything right then Lacy wishes she could be back in her room, alone with the door locked, free to probe all these new feelings stirring inside her.**

**But instead here she is, stuck in the stupid living room with Ma and Peggy, each of them sitting on either end of the couch, no doubt expecting Lacy to perch herself between them.**

_**Like she's that suicidal.** _

**"Hey, guys," she says, bypassing the couch in favor of her favorite beanbag chair. "What'd I miss?"**

**"You didn't miss jack," Peggy says smugly. "We waited for you 'cause this whole pow-wow is your fault."**

**"Not quite," Evelyn corrects her, even as Lacy flashes her sister a middle finger with the volume already turned all the way up.**

**Peggy ignores the taunt, her attention totally on Evelyn.**

**"Not quite, Ma? Are you saying I'm partially to blame here?"**

**"Yeah, she is," Lacy pipes in. "Ma ain't fooled by you an' your 'I'm-so-innocent' shit, an' neither am I."**

**"Lacy, hush," Evelyn says. "I'm not placing blame until I know what went on up there just now."**

**"Okay, then." Lacy stretches her legs out and crosses her feet at the ankles. "Ask me anything."**

**"Who started the brawl I heard all the way out in the garage?"**

**"She did," both girls reply together.**

**Evelyn rolls her eyes and sighs. "Okay, let me rephrase that. Who hit who first?"**

**"I hit her," Lacy admits proudly. "Just like Grandpa taught me."**

**Peggy looks confused. " _Grandpa_ taught you how to bloody my nose?"**

**"Not just yours, silly. Anyone's. He says nine outta ten fights are won by whoever lands the first punch."**

**Evelyn hides a smile neither girl needs to see and looks at Peggy. "So, fine. Was your sister justified in taking Grandpa's advice in this case?"**

**"No," Peggy answers, glaring across the room at Lacy. "I was only telling her the truth."**

**"I see. And what about me, Peg? Would I have felt like popping you one if _I'd_ heard your version of the truth?"**

**Peggy doesn't answer, but Lacy jumps to her feet. "Yes! Busted by your own bullshit!"**

**Evelyn cuts her a look. "Don't gloat too hard. You're not off the hook, either. I'm curious to know what's going on with that soldier of yours."**

**Lacy's eyes narrow. "First of all, Ma, he ain't my _soldier,_ he's my friend. An' second of all, there ain't shit goin' on 'cause last I checked he was on a bus to some Army camp in California."**

**"Peggy says you were on the pier letting him kiss you."**

**Lacy's hands go to her hips as she fixes a glare on her sister. "Me on the pier, kissin' or otherwise, ain't none of her damn business."**

**"But it is mine. _Were_ you letting that boy kiss you?"**

**"No. We were kissin' each other, which means I liked it, too."**

**"What else did you do, Lacy?" Peggy cuts in. "It'd be so like you to lose your virginity to some guy you just met."**

**Instead of launching herself across the room, Lacy smiles sweetly and waits a few seconds before answering.**

**"A girl can't lose what she already gave away."**

**Peggy's shock is so comical Lacy has to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud. Evelyn's face, by contrast, shows no surprise at all.**

**Peggy turns to stare at her. "You knew about this?"**

**"I had my suspicions when some of my birth control pills went missing, but then the boy she was sweet on moved away, and Lacy confessed." She shrugs. "That was the summer we sent her to stay with your grandpa, to keep her and your dad from killing each other over it."**

**"But she was thirteen! And wait...Daddy knew, too?"**

**"I told 'em both," Lacy says, deciding to rejoin the conversation. "I figured Daddy wouldn't fly off too bad if Ma was there, an' she couldn't blackmail me with tellin' him if he already knew."**

**Evelyn smiles sadly. "You always were too smart for your own good."**

**But Peggy, who Lacy suspects will never be so afflicted, is still trying to process what she's just learned. "Okay, I get why you told our dad, but how come you never told me?"**

**"'Cause blackmail ain't your style. You woulda ran your happy little ass right to Daddy, hopin' to shame me, then you woulda tried sweet-talkin' him into puttin' you in charge of me." She looks back at Evelyn. "So are we done talkin' about Riley, or what? I'm gettin' kinda tired."**

_**And still turned-on from being with Riley, but that part she keeps to herself.** _

**_E_ velyn sighs. "Just one more thing, then you can run along to bed."**

_**Finally.** _

**"What one more thing?"**

**"Well, my main concern is his age. Three years is a big difference."**

**"Yeah, but it's actually more like two. An' maybe by the time he comes home _I'll_ be eighteen like he is now, an' it won't matter."**

**"Or maybe with any luck you'll never see him again," Evelyn mutters to herself, then instantly regrets it when she sees the stricken look on her daughter's face.**

**"I can't believe you just said that," Lacy says, her voice barely a whisper.**

**"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," Evelyn pleads, desperate to make the girl believe her. "I only meant maybe he'll forget you, or the war will change him into a man you don't recognize."**

**"You're not helping, Ma," Peggy mutters, and Lacy glares at each of them in turn.**

**"You _both_ suck," she says, choking on a sob, then turns on her bare heels and flees upstairs to the sanctuary of her room.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those unfamiliar with the name, Boo Radley is a character in Harper Lee's 'To Kill A Mockingbird.' He was played by a young Robert Duvall in the movie.

**Sisters Again **

**_Thursday, July 3, 1969 - 11:53pm._ **

**Lacy lies on her bed in just her maroon gym shorts, the window air-conditioner making a lot of noise but doing little to cool her nearly-naked body.**

**She'd bought the damn thing with her own money, but like most everything else in her life these days, it has her feeling out-of-sorts and adrift.**

_**That's stupid. It ain't the air-conditioner, an' it ain't Riley, neither. Riley made you happy.** _

**"For sure," Lacy whispers to the empty room. "But the air-condotioner still sucks.** " **  
**

**She stares up at the ceiling, one hand flat on her tummy, the other one resting a bit lower just in case, but she's no longer in that mood.**

**Her joy from earlier is gone,** **replaced by a** **red haze of anger she's never felt before, a feeling so raw she wants to scream.**

_**My mother is such a goddamn bitch.** _

**She's never been this pissed before, not about Ma anyway, but there it is, all acid and vinegar and venom, and she has no fucking clue how to get rid of it, or at least take the edge off.**

_**I need Schnapps.** _

_**And Peggy has some.** _

* * *

**Peggy Wilson can't sleep, despite the late hour, but unlike her younger sister down the hall, the thoughts keeping _her_ awake are born of regret rather than anger.**

_**Our mother isn't always right.** _

_**And I've been such a fool with Lacy.** _

**She sighs, knowing full well that _fool_ is not really the right word to use in that sentence.**

**_Stone cold bitch,_ on the other hand, covers it pretty nicely.**

**The worst part is, she's _been_ a bitch to the girl for years, for no other reason than jealousy. To Peg, Lacy was always cuter, taller, and smarter.**

**And yeah, too self-possessed to ever chop off all her hair just to please a snake of a boyfriend who left her ass anyway.**

**It shames her now that not only hadn't Lacy trusted her with the knowledge of her own boyfriend when she was thirteen, but that her sister's mistrust of her had been so spot-on.**

_**I can't believe I was so petty and mean.** _

**And Lacy, for her part, had only ever adored her big sister, at least until she got older and figured out Peggy despised her, at which point the adoration slowly turned to indifference and then open hostility, and the war was on.**

**Leading up to tonight's fight, and the disastrous scene in the living room.**

_**Damn, damn, damn.** _

**She hears the faint squeak of hinges as her bedroom door eases open and Lacy – almost naked in the dim light - tiptoes on silent bare feet toward Peggy's dresser.**

**"Looking for something, sis?"**

**Lacy yelps and practically jumps out of her very-exposed skin.**

**"I need Schnapps," she mutters, echoing the thought that had driven her from her room in the first place.**

**Peggy, wearing a short nightgown, swings her legs off the bed and plants her own bare feet on the floor.**

**"I got two bottles in the middle drawer. Grab one and come sit by me so we can share."**

**Lacy stares at her. "Seriously?"**

**"Yeah, seriously. But do me a favor, grab my t-shirt off the chair and put it on. You're cute enough with no clothes on, but you're also my sister. And I'm into guys."**

**"Thanks for clarifying," Lacy says as she picks up the shirt, slips it over her head, and rescues her hair from under the collar.**

**"Didn't know you like the Stones."**

**Peggy shrugs. "Not big on their songs, but the tongue logo is cool."**

**"I like the songs _and_ the logo," Lacy says as she digs around in the middle drawer of Peggy's dresser and pulls out a fifth of Spearmint Schnapps.**

**"Damn, Peg. Always figured you for a half-pint sort of girl."**

**She comes over and sits next to Peggy on the bed, leaving several inches of space between them, then hands her the bottle.**

**"You first. It's your booze."**

**Peggy opens the virgin bottle and takes a swig, then passes the Schnapps to her sister, who guzzles it like Kool-Aid.**

**"Jesus, Lace, I know you're pissed, but go easy. That stuff'll put you on your ass."**

**"I'm way past pissed, okay? I'm fuckin' lethal."**

**She hands the bottle back to Peggy, who caps it and sets it on the bed between them.**

**"Toward me?" Peggy asks. "I wouldn't blame you if you were."**

**"A little at you, but mostly at Ma." She blows at a strand of hair tickling her nose. "Thanks for callin' her out on that stupid shit she said, an' for not judgin' me about Marcus Hopewell."**

**Peggy's brows go up. "Marcus the math whiz? That kid was so shy he made Boo Radley look like a real live chatterbox."**

**"Not shy in bed," Lacy informs her, and Peggy is surprised to see a flush on her cheeks.**

**"How long were y'all together?"**

**"A couple months, then all of a sudden they moved away."**

**"Did you stay in touch?"**

**"Are you kidding? His mother wouldn't even let him tell me where the hell they were movin' to."**

**"The woman must not have liked you."**

**"Yeah, I got that feelin'. It bothered her that Marcus was showing some backbone and coming out of his shell 'cause of me."**

**"You figure maybe she found out you and her precious son were staining the sheets?"**

**"Oh, yuck, Peg! That's gross."**

**"What? That's what Brody calls it when we make love."**

**"You an' Brody make love?" Lacy shudders at the thought. "Shit, no wonder you drink."**

**You hush! And answer my question."**

**"Mrs. Hopewell didn't know _what_ Marcus an' me were doin'."**

**"Moms have a way of figuring shit out, Lace."**

**"Ours didn't," Lacy retorts. She smacks Peggy's arm. "An' she'd have no clue about me an' Riley kissin' if _you_ woulda kept shut about my puffy lips."**

**Peggy looks sheepish. "I'm sorry, okay? That was just my big-sister mode kicking in. It won't happen again, I swear."**

**Lacy shkes her head so violently her hair slaps Peggy in the face. "No! I _like_ havin' a big sister, so long as you ain't mean about it no more."**

**"Works for me," Peggy says. "Now shut up and let's finish off this bottle."**

**So they do, and when morning comes Evelyn finds them sound asleep in each other's arms, with an uncapped, nearly-empty bottle of Spearmint Schnapps on the dresser.**

**Seeing them there like that feels bittersweet, she loves that they are sisters again, but damn if she isn't heartsick over her new rift with Lacy.**

_**Almost the first one ever.** _

**With a sigh, and without disturbing her daughters, she caps the Schnapps and – knowing just where to look – she puts it back in its proper hiding place next to the full one. Then she slips from the room and heads out to prepare the cafe for Rebel Creek's annual Fourth of July bonfire and fireworks show.**


	11. Chapter 11

**The Morning After The Day Before**

**_Friday, July 4, 1969 - 10am._ **

**Peggy sits at the kitchen table in her robe and slippers, nursing a cup of black coffee and chain-smoking Winstons.**

**She looks like death warmed over compared to Lacy, who sits across from her with green polish on her bare toes and enough sugar and Cremora in _her_ coffee to make it drinkable.**

**In low-slung denim shorts – cut off so high the pockets show – and wearing Peggy's Stones tee tied off just under her breasts, she looks like anything but a girl who spent the previous night inhaling half a bottle of Schapps, and Peggy, who'd inhaled the other half, feels her old jealousy trying to flare up again.**

**"Must you look so chipper this early in the day?" she mutters, and Lacy cocks an eyebrow at her.**

**"Good mornin' to you too, Grumpy," Lacy shoots back, wondering if their new-found truce is fraying already.**

**"Peg," she says after a brief hesitation, "are we still okay, or is shit gonna go back to how it was before?"**

**Peggy looks up, wide-eyed. "What? No. We're still good, I'm just a bear in the morning."**

**"Good to hear," Lacy offers with a relieved smile. "I guess that means you won't be askin' me to take this shirt off right here an' give it back to you."**

**"Yesterday I would have." Peg grins. "And knowing you, you'da done it, too."**

**"Hey, nobody ever said I was shy," Lacy tells her, then goes back to reading that day's edition of the _Rebel Creek Gazette,_ which she'd fetched off the front porch earlier.**

**"Damn, that's weird," she says, looking up a minute or so later. "Brian Jones died yesterday."**

**"Who's Brian Jones? And why is it weird?"**

**"'Cause he started the Rolling Stones, an' we were just talkin' about them last night."**

**"Wait," Peggy says, stubbing out her cigarette and lighting another one. "Didn't Mitch Jagger start the Stones?"**

**" _Mick._ And nope, it wasn't him, or Keith Richards neither. It was Brian Jones, for all the thanks he got. _"_**

**"How'd he die?"**

**"Says here he was found unresponsive at the bottom of his swimming pool."**

**"Jeez, that sucks." Peggy sips her coffee. "So, is that like a fancy way of saying he drowned?"**

**Lacy laughs. "Prob'ly."**

**Just then the phone rings, startling both of them.**

**"I hope that's Grandpa," Lacy says excitedly, jumping up to answer it.**

**"Hello?"**

**"Hi, sweetheart. I was just talking to your mother at the cafe, she said you'd probably be in later to help with the fireworks crowd."**

**"I'll be there with Josie an' them," Lacy replies. "But if Ma needs help she can call Ruth Ann."**

**There is a short silence, and she wonders how much he knows about what went on yesterday.**

**"Grandpa? You still there?"**

**"Yeah, I'm here. Just worried about you, kiddo."**

**_Yeah, like I'm the only one with a problem in this family._ **

**"I'm fine, just really pissed right now. What all did Ma tell you?"**

**"She said you met a soldier who came into the cafe and ended up making out with him on the pier, which worries her after what happened two years ago. She thinks you're too young for him."**

**"Her opinion, not mine. What else?"**

**There is an edge to her voice now, and she can almost see him deciding how to handle her temper if it flares.**

**"She told me about your little set-to with Peggy."**

**_A 'little' set-to? Seriously?_ **

**"Is that what she called it? Grandpa, I bloodied Peg's nose for her, an' she tore my favorite nightshirt almost clean off. Then she tried to snatch me bald-headed so I'd look like her."**

**At the table Peggy flips her off without looking up from the paper, and Lacy grins.**

**"But we're good now, thanks to a fifth of Schnapps and an all-night bitch-session."**

**Grandpa laughs. "Glad to hear it, but you gotta watch out for Schnapps. That stuff'll sneak up on you."**

**"No lie. But ain't you gonna lecture me about the evils of alcohol, like Daddy would if he was here?"**

**"Honey, your daddy is a pussy when it comes to booze, and one day I'll tell you again about the still I had when I was just about your age."**

**"I like that story," she says, grinning at what he'd said about her father. "You comin' down for the celebration?"**

**"Wouldn't miss it, kiddo. But listen, will I see you and your ma getting along, or do I gotta put you _both_ over my knee?"**

**Lacy feels her anger rising and tries to rein it in. "I'll behave, but did Ma even tell you the hateful stuff she said?"**

**"No, sweetheart, she didn't. I think she was ashamed."**

**"She should be," Lacy mutters, not willing to get rid of her mad just yet.**

**Another pause from Grandpa, then in a resigned voice he says, "On that note, maybe it's best if I change the subject. Did you hear about the Russkies?"**

**Sudden fear stabs her. "No. Did they launch an attack or something?"**

**"God, no, nothing like that. Their damn spaceship exploded all to hell."**

**Lacy isn't really following all the drama surrounding the race to the moon, but she knows Russia is pretty much done-for now.**

**"So that's a good thing, right?"**

**"Not for them," Grandpa says with a chuckle. "But at least no one was hurt."**

**"Amen to that," Lacy replies, surprised at herself for not even thinking there might have been casualties.**

**Peggy looks up from the paper. "Tell Grandpa I said hi. And ask him what he thinks of Lubbock so far."**

**"Peg says hey, Grandpa. An' we both wanna know how you like your new digs."**

**"They're nothin' special," he says, "but so long as I'm closer to my three girls I ain't gonna complain."**

**They talk a bit longer, Grandpa promises to see them all later, then says a gruff goodbye and hangs up.**

**As Lacy sits back down, Peggy reaches into the purse at her feet and pulls out the keys to her truck.**

**"Here," she says, sliding them across the table. "Brody's picking me up in an hour, we're gonna hang out at his pad for a while, so I figure you can drive yourself to the bonfire."**

**"But I don't have my license yet."**

**Peggy grins. "So don't let Barney catch you."**

**Lacy scoffs. "Hell, Barney couldn't catch a cold. An' there ain't _nobody_ catchin' me in the El Camino."**

**Barney is their nickname for the Rebel Creek police chief, who not only looks like Don Knotts, but acts like him, too. And Lacy, who's known how to drive since she was twelve, is fearless behind the wheel.**

**"Thanks, sis," she says, slipping the keys into the tight pocket of her shorts. "I owe you one."**

**"Hey, don't sweat it. Just save me a little of the Schnapps I got stashed in my glove compartment."**

**Lacy shakes her head. "I got a better idea. Why don't you bring it to my room tonight, an' we can jam to the Stones in honor of Brian Jones."**

**"You're on." Peggy smiles. "But lemme bring some of my records, and I'll turn you on to some _real_ music _._ "**

**"You can try," Lacy tells her, and they both laugh.**

* * *

**Evelyn had never understood their move from Missouri to Texas, or why in God's name Bob relocated them so far from her parents.**

**It had been 1954, Lacy was just an infant, Pop was barely back from Korea, and almost before she knew it, they were in Rebel Creek, Texas.**

**Back then the town boasted maybe 1,500 people – the number has since nearly doubled - and Evelyn found herself raising three children in a place where she didn't know a soul, and worse yet, she was saddled with a husband who was on the road far more than he was home.**

**She didn't understand any of it.**

**Until the evening of February 2, 1965, not long after they'd lost Mildred to lung cancer. Pop called, in his cups and mourning his wife on what would have been their fortieth wedding anniversary. Weepy and angry by turns, he broke down and told Evelyn about Bob's nightgown fiasco in Tokyo.**

**The five of them – her, Bob, and the kids – had been playing Monopoly at the kitchen table, with 11-year-old tycoon Lacy gleefully annihilating all of them.**

**She'd listened as her world - and every single one of her illusions - shattered around her.**

**And when the call was over, Evelyn had oh-so-gently placed the receiver back in its cradle, spent a long moment watching her family at the table, and felt no remorse whatsover that she was about to blow _their_ illusions all to hell.**

**_Not Lacy's, though. She's never had any._ **

**Even as the thought saddened her, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stepped out of the heels Bob insisted she wear. Then she crossed the kitchen on nyloned feet and slapped her husband across the face.**

**"That was for Tokyo, you cheating bastard," she hissed. "And _this_ one's for dragging us halfway across the country because Pop knew your dirty little secret."**

**Her second slap was harder than the first, and amid the stunned silence that followed she'd choked back a sob and fled to the bedroom she still must share with Bob.**

**_For now._ **

**But in the end the dust had settled, thanks in part to Stuart and Peggy, who'd pointed out that Bob's transgression happened over a decade before and deserved forgiveness.**

**Lacy, on the other hand, was all in favor of tar and feathers and a hot poker up his ass.**

**_That_ comment earned her a slap from Peggy, which she countered with a bare foot to her sister's crotch, and Evelyn's days as a referee were off to a rousing start.**

**And now here she is almost five years later, a still-pretty middle-aged woman with a cafe to run and no husband.**

**And three children, two of them barely grown and the third – Lacy - a barefoot rebel ready to fight at the drop of a hat.**

**And, to quote her proud grandpa, more than willing to drop the hat herself.**

**Ruth Ann, the heavyset Negro woman who waitresses most holidays, pokes her head into the kitchen.**

**"Miss Evelyn," she says nervously, "maybe you'd best get out here."**

**"Why, what's happening?"**

**"Nothin' yet. But that boy just came in with a couple of his friends."**

**" _Which_ boy, Ruth Ann? _"_**

**"The same one Lacy was keepin' time with 'til he called Stuart that awful name."**

**Evelyn feels her temper start to simmer. "That little shit has some nerve coming in here."**

**"He sure do," the other woman agrees. "You want me to run 'em off?"**

**"Not your job," Evelyn tells her. "Besides, I want _that_ pleasure for myself."**

**She takes off her apron, frees her hair from its ponytail, and slips into the dining area. Then she eases into the booth next to the one occupied by the three teenagers.**

**Dewey Bowers, David Rios, and Missy Jo Austen, none of whom recognize her.**

**So she eavesdrops on them, and what she hears makes her want to commit a triple homicide.**

* * *

**_Dewey: So get this, the little bitch thinks she broke up with me 'cause I called her big brother a pussy, which is bullshit._ **

**_Missy Jo: But you did call him a pussy._ **

**_Dewey: Yeah, but that ain't the point. I was tired of her frigid ass anyway._ **

**_David: Lacy Wilson, frigid? That ain't the way I hear it._ **

**_Missy Jo: I heard she was fucking Marcus back in 8th grade, and that's why he had to leave Rebel Creek._ **

**_Dewey: She was doin' it with Hopewell? What a laugh!_ **

* * *

**Evelyn's heard enough, and the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.**

**"Marcus probably had a bigger dick than you, dipshit."**

**As three teenage mouths gape at her, Evelyn, not even aware that she's kicked off her flip-flops, is on her feet and glaring at them.**

**"You three losers need to leave. Now."**

**Dewey finds his voice first. "Who the hell are you to kick us out? This ain't your place."**

**"Actually, genius, it is. And if I was you, I'd either watch my mouth, or watch my back."**

**"From you?" Dewey eyes her warily. "Why?"**

**"Not from me, per se, although I'm tempted. But no, I think I'll let my daughter fight her own battles."**

**She turns and heads back into the kitchen, while behind her one of her regulars, an old-timer everyone calls Speedy, casts a scornful look at Dewey and his friends.**

**"Y'know, folks hereabouts love the Wilsons like kin, 'specially Lacy, so y'all need to take your trashy talk somewhere else."**

**Other diners echo this sentiment, and finally Dewey, muttering under his breath, exits the cafe with Missy Jo and David trailing in his wake.**

* * *

**Evelyn picks up the phone in her small office and dials, hoping Lacy hasn't left the house yet.**

**She hasn't, and answers breathlessly on the third ring.**

**"Hello?"**

**"Lacy, honey, it's me."**

**"Hey, Ma."**

**While there is no warmth in the greeting, there is also no animosity.**

**"Listen, honey, I know you hate me right now-"**

**Lacy cuts her off. "Ma, I don't hate you, okay? I'm just royally pissed, is all."**

**"Are you sure? Lacy, I just want things between us like they were before I said all those stupid things."**

**"Ma, listen to me. I love you, an' I forgive you. Now what's up? I can tell there's somethin' else botherin' you."**

**"There is."**

**Lacy sighs impatiently. "Ma, just tell me already."**

**So she does, but to her surprise Lacy doesn't focus her anger quite where Evelyn might have expected her to.**

**" _Frigid?_ The stupid shit called _me_ frigid? He's fuckin' lucky if some poor girl can find his tiny dick with tweezers and a flashlight! _"_**

**She slams her phone down hard, and Evelyn chuckles to herself. "Suspicion confirmed," she mutters, then sends up a silent prayer that, whatever else happens at the bonfire later, Lacy doesn't end up in jail.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Bruised Knuckles And Broken Glass**

**_Friday, July 4, 1969 – 2:30pm._ **

**The Fourth of July bonfire is a tradition in Rebel Creek, and by mid-afternoon on this first Friday in July the weed-and-gravel-strewn lot out back of Evvie's Place is already filling up with muscle cars and battered pickups, and even a few ATVs.**

**Lacy's there, sitting cross-legged on the hood of Peggy's El Camino, still barefoot and still wearing her skimpy shorts and the Stones t-shirt Peg had told her to keep, while Buffalo Springfield's _For What It's Worth_ blasts from the pickup's speakers.**

**Pushing back some of the hair shadowing her face, she looks around for Dewey, but he hasn't shown his ugly face yet.**

**_He is so fucked when I see him._ **

**"Yo, Lace, over here!"**

**She glances over to see Josie Ramey, her best friend almost since birth, leaning against the fender of her white Camaro, hanging with Seth Jensen and Mike Waverly.**

**Lacy hops down off the hood of the El Camino and jogs toward them, her bare legs and exposed belly button drawing stares and a few wolf whistles from some of the guys – and a few of the girls - milling around.**

**"Hey, y'all," she mutters, accepting a half-full bottle of Southern Comfort from Seth and taking a healthy swig.**

**She offers the bottle to Josie, who shakes her red hair out of her eyes and fixes Lacy with a death glare.**

**"Okay, Wilson, what gives?"**

**"About what?" Lacy asks with a shrug, passing the bottle to Mike instead.**

**"Oh, get off it," Josie replies, crossing her arms over her chest. "You look pissed as hell, your voice sounds like you're ready to spit nails, and I haven't seen you guzzle like that since that shit with your dad."**

**Lacy's huff blows a strand of hair off her nose. "Dewey's talkin' shit again."**

**"Now what's the little prick saying?"**

**" _Little_ prick is right. Him an' Missy Jo an' that Rios kid were in the cafe earlier, Ma overheard them talkin' trash."**

**"About Stuart?"**

**"Some, but mostly about me. Dewey said he was tired of my frigid ass, and Missy Jo let him in on my junior high sluthood with Marcus."**

**"First of all," Josie says indignantly, "you're not frigid. And second of all, how could he not already know about you and Marcus? Hell, e _verybody_ knew, an' they kept askin' me what _I_ knew."**

**"What'd you tell 'em?" Lacy asks, although knowing her friend she can pretty much guess.**

**"I told 'em to mind their own damn business, or ask you their ownselves."**

**"That's my girl," Lacy says with a grin as she and Josie high-five each other.**

**"Too bad nobody asked her," Seth says sadly, taking a long pull on the Southern and handing it back to Lacy. "I'da paid to see Barefoot Ninja here kick some major ass."**

**"Barefoot Ninja, huh?" Lacy says, polishing off the nearly-empty bottle and arcing it into the nearest trash barrel. "I like it."**

**"I bet you like _that_ , too," Mike says, gesturing, and that's when she sees it - a purple '68 El Camino SS396 with mag wheels, chrome side pipes, and a jacked-up rear end.**

**_Ooh, I want that truck._ **

**Then she sees Dewey behind the wheel with his two hangers-on hitching a ride in the cargo bed, and all thoughts of the gorgeous truck disappear.**

**_There you are, you sonofabitch. An' now your ass is mine._ **

* * *

**Dewey is barely out of the cab before she's on him, a girl in skimpy shorts and bare feet, her messy blonde hair not quite hiding the lethal glitter in her narrowed green eyes.**

**The sight of her almost makes him hard.**

**"Hey there, Lacy," he drawls. "Long time no see."**

**"Not long enough," she spits out. "An' you need to quit talkin' shit about my brother."**

**"Who's talkin' shit? His pussy ass took off for Canada 'cause he's too scared to fight."**

**"That ain't why, you clueless fuck! His moral compass won't let him kill another human being. But here's the thing, Dewey. _My_ compass don't point the same way as his."**

**"What, now you wanna kill me?" He spreads his hands, playing to the crowd that has gathered behind her. "You weren't so violent sucking my dick."**

**"I fell _asleep_ sucking your dick," Lacy says hotly, a split second before her small fist connects with the point of his chin.**

**There is a gasp from the crowd as Dewey staggers backward against his truck, the back of his head bouncing hard off the metal door post.**

**"I bet that hurt," Lacy tells him, snatching up a crowbar from the truck bed and totally ignoring David and Missy Jo as they cower away from her.**

**In a controlled fury she circles the El Camino and takes out both side mirrors and all four headlights, then narrows her eyes at the windshield.**

**"How's _this_ for frigid," she yells, raising the crowbar over her head in a two-handed grip, but before metal can shatter glass again, two arms wrap around her from behind.**

**And then she's being dragged away from the battered pickup, kicking and swearing, until Ma's voice in her ear stops her cold.**

**"Lacy, quit! I'll gladly pay for what you just did, because God knows I wanted to do the same, but the cafe can't afford the cost of a new windshield."**

**In all her life Lacy has never lost it so completely, or been as mortified as she feels at that moment. She stares down at her feet, letting her hair fall forward to hide the flush of shame on her face.**

**"Ma, I'm so sorry! You gotta let me help pay it, dock my pay or something-"**

**"Oh, for the love of Sophie, enough of this horse hockey," a voice calls out. "I'll pay the damages on behalf of the bravest little girl I know."**

**"Grandpa!" Lacy rushes into his open arms, sobbing now, and he awkwardly strokes her wild hair until she cries herself out.**

**In the meantime, the crowd starts to disperse back to their own vehicles, leaving just her and Ma, Grandpa and some guy she's never met before, and Josie.**

**And Dewey, standing shakily next to his truck, all alone with Missy Jo and David nowhere to be seen.**

**Angry and humiliated, he wants to lash out, to take Lacy and make her grovel at his feet.**

**_Yeah, good luck with that,_ he thinks, still reeling from the fierce way she'd lit into him, and aware also that the geezer she'd called her grandpa is no joke for an old guy.**

**Even so, he is unable to keep the truculence from his voice as he calls out, "Hey, y'all, I hate to interrupt the family reunion, but who's gonna pay for what that psycho bitch did to _me_?"**

**"I shoulda done worse!" Lacy yells, ready to start after him again, but her grandfather puts a hand on her arm to hold her back.**

**"Don't worry, girl, I've got this," he says, approaching Dewey with no friendliness in his eyes.**

**"What's your name, son?"**

**"Dewey Bowers."**

**"Sherm Potter, but you can just call me sir."**

**"Yes, sir," Dewey says, unable to stop himself.**

**"Very good. Now Dewey, how much you figure a used '68 El Camino, all decked out like this one, would go for these days?"**

**"I paid a grand for her just this morning," Dewey answers honestly, then shrugs. "She runs like new, but the guy needed cash in a hurry."**

**"Did you have her checked out first?"**

**Dewey nods. "My cousin's a mechanic, he said she's in cherry condition."**

**"Okay, here's what I'll do," the old guy says after giving it some thought. "I'll give you $1,200 right now, cash on the barrelhead, in exchange for the truck, the paperwork, and a signed bill-of-sale."**

**"You got a deal," Dewey says, already thinking about the Ford F-100 he can still get for a measly six bills.**

**_And,_ he thinks, _with Ma pinin' away for her kin in Derry, maybe it's time to get the hell outta Dodge._**

**"Oh, and before we shake on it," Lacy's grandfather says, interrupting Dewey's escape plan, "there is one other thing."**

**"Okay," Dewey replies, forcing himself not to say ' _Yes, sir'_ again.**

**"You see that guy in the Hawaiian shirt talking to my granddaughter?"**

**"Yes, sir."**

**_Fuck._ **

**"That's Hawkeye Pierce, best damn sawbones I ever had the pleasure to work with, and son, if you ever call Lacy Ann a bitch again, or bother a single hair on her pretty head, Hawkeye there will slice out your heart and hand it to you still beating. Then, after you bleed out, he'll pour himself a drink and call me to dispose of your body."**

**Dewey goes pale, and all of a sudden life in Bumfuck, Maine doesn't sound so fucking bad after all.**

* * *

**So now it's just her and him, Grandpa's friend she doesn't know yet, with Ma back tending the cafe and Josie off somewhere with Seth and Mike.**

**They watch her grandfather confront Dewey, with Lacy casting sideways looks at the man beside her.**

**_Not that old, Ma's age maybe, with dark hair and laugh lines at the corners of his twinkling blue eyes._ **

**_And a Hawaiian shirt._ **

**A memory nags at her, a photo Grandpa showed her once of him surrounded by other members of his MASH unit. The guy next to him looked like _this_ guy, only younger, with a similar shirt and a highball glass in his hand.**

**_Oh, my God._ **

**"You're Hawkeye, ain't you?" she says, feeling suddenly shy and not liking it one bit.**

**"Yes, ma'am." He doffs an imaginary hat and bows. "Benjamin Franklin Pierce, at your service."**

**_Swoon._ **

**"I'm Lacy," she says simply, putting out her hand.  
**

**"You sure are," he replies, taking her hand and kissing it, and she feels the butterflies in her stomach start to flutter.**

**Grandpa and Dewey appear to be having some sort of business discussion now, although Lacy can't hear their words. She watches Dewey turn and slide into his El Camino, but instead of driving away he gets some papers from the glove box and hands them to Grandpa.**

**_What the hell?_ **

**"Was that idiot your boyfriend?" Hawkeye wants to know.**

**"God, no," she exclaims, horrified by the thought. "We just hooked up a couple times."**

**Hawkeye arches a brow. "And that's better how?"**

**"Not better, just really dumb." She shakes her head. "I musta been brain-dead or something."**

**Hawkeye grins. "I can check that for you. Hold on."**

**He saunters over to Grandpa's old Ford sedan, reaches into the open window, and pulls out a black doctor's bag before heading back to her.**

**_This should be interesting,_ she thinks, her eyes widening as he takes a stethoscope from his bag and inserts the eartips into his ears.**

**_Very interesting_.**

**Her overheated imagination pictures Hawkeye Pierce sliding his hand under her t-shirt to place the cold chestpiece on her warm left breast, and Lacy – who rarely blushes - feels herself flush hot clear down to her bare toes.**

**Hawkeye notes her reaction and gives her that sexy grin again. "Relax, kid, It's not your heart that concerns me, not after the way you handled yourself just now."**

**"Then what's with the stethoscope?" she asks, warmed by his words.**

**In answer he comes up and places the chestpiece against her forehead, then moves it around to different spots on her head, further mussing her hair in the process.**

**"Uh-oh."**

**"What?"**

**"I don't hear anything."**

**"Very funny," Lacy mutters, already half in love with him and all the way there with Riley, and damned if she can do shit about either one.**

* * *

**The three of them occupy a booth, with Grandpa and Hawkeye on one side and Lacy sprawled out on the other, as her mother sets a basket of cheese fries in front of her.**

**"Thanks, Ma."**

**"You're welcome." Evelyn sets three frosted mugs of lemonade on the table as the men start reminiscing about their time in Korea and someone named Margaret.**

**"Best damn nurse we had," Grandpa is saying, "and a fine-lookin' filly to boot."**

**Hawkeye nods in agreement. "Yeah. Too bad she had such shitty taste in men."**

**"So she dated _you_ then, huh?" Lacy teases, her schoolgirl crush slowly morphing into an easygoing familiarity she is much more comfortable with.**

**Hawkeye winks at her. "Well, I wouldn't say we dated, exactly, but one day when you're older maybe I'll tell you why she got the nickname _Hot Lips."_**

**"Tell me now," she challenges, and so he does, ending his tale with, "But Frank never did say which lips she wanted him to kiss."**

**And for the second time that day, Lacy feels herself blush like some stupid virgin.**

**"So when's your birthday again?" Grandpa asks, saving her from any more embarrassment.**

**"August 4th, not like you need _me_ to tell you."**

**"And when were you gonna go for your license?"**

**She grins. "August 4th."**

**"Good deal," Grandpa says. "You never were a girl who let grass grow under her feet."**

**"Hey, I _like_ grass under my feet." She pops a fry into her mouth. "Why you askin', anyways?"**

**"Well, sweetheart, a license don't mean buffalo bagels without a vehicle, so here." He slides a set of keys over to her. "Happy early birthday!"**

**It takes a second to register, just long enough for Hawkeye to clear the lemonade and fries out of Lacy's way as she squeals and launches herself across the table.**

**"Oh, Grandpa!" she cries, looping her arms around his neck and planting kisses all over his face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"**

**As she slumps back into her seat, flushed with happiness, Speedy calls out from his usual spot at the counter, "Been comin' here some forty-odd years, an' not once has some pretty young thing done that to me."**

**"That's 'cause you ain't as good-lookin' as me," Grandpa tells him, and the whole cafe erupts with laughter.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Time To Herself **

**_Friday, July 4, 1969 – 5:30pm._ **

**With Grandpa and Hawkeye on their way back to Lubbock and Ma and Peggy already at the pier for the 9pm. fireworks show, Lacy is finally, blessedly alone.**

**The first thing she does is treat herself to a long soak in their old clawfoot tub, a treat which includes plenty of bubbles and a vanilla-scented candle flickering on the closed toilet lid.**

**And, because a girl needs to celebrate when her grandpa buys her a souped-up purple pickup for her birthday, she also includes a cold bottle of Lone Star beer from the fridge.**

**She stays in the tub until the water cools and the bubbles slowly die of boredom, long enough to wash her hair twice and have naughty thoughts about Riley being there with her, kissing her stupid while lathering every inch of her with Irish Spring.**

**Lacy pulls the plug with her toe, steps out of the tub, and – taking extra time with her almost-butt-length hair - dries herself off. Then, barefoot, naked, and on a mission, she pads back across the hall to her room and slams the door.**

* * *

**Lacy emerges some time later, encased in a white terrycloth wrap that barely covers her undies, and - given the careless way she's knotted the sash - barely covers anything else, either.**

**She likes the way the soft terrycloth feels against her skin, likes the way she looks wearing it, and wonders what Riley would think of her half-dressed self if he could see her right then.**

**And just like that, the sex-crazed butterflies in Lacy's belly wake up again and begin attacking each other.**

**_Well, shit._ **

**To distract herself from her wanton urges, she snags another Lone Star and heads back to the bathroom, where she scours the tub with Brillo pads and Ajax.**

**It doesn't help.**

* * *

**In her room again, Lacy discards the wrap in favor of a black-lace cami crop top and white short-shorts, grabs her short-story notebook and a black Bic pen, and goes downstairs to start a letter to Riley and see what's good on TV _._**


	14. Chapter 14

**Lacy's First Letter To Riley**

**_Dear Riley,_ **

**_July 4, 1969_ **

**_Greetings from Rebel Creek, where your favorite (and hopefully only) barefooted blonde chick is sprawled on her tummy on the living room rug and wishing like hell you weren't so far away._ **

**_Sigh._ **

**_So how's Army life in California? I know you've only been there like 24 hours, and your reporting date ain't 'til Monday, but a lot can happen in a day._ **

**_Take me, for instance. Since I last seen you waving from the bus, I bloodied my sister's nose, shared a bottle of Spearmint Schnapps with her while we made up, and in between all that, my mother said some stupid shit I won't go into right now._ **

**_And that was all before the sun came up this morning._ **

**_An' now for today, which was kinda like that Clint Eastwood flick, the one with Lee Marvin and Eli Wallach and all that kick-ass music._ **

**_The good: Peg an' me are still getting along, Ma an' me hashed things out, and my grandpa bought me a killer purple El Camino for my birthday. Oh, and the nice, hot bath I just took in our big clawfooted tub. (Picture a vanilla candle, lots of bubbles, and me all naked.)_ **

**_There, now you can be horny, too._ **

**_The bad: Dewey Bowers, my ex-whatever-he-was, talking shit about my brother an' me, my fist hitting his jaw, and the way I took a crowbar to his innocent truck before I knew Grandpa was gonna buy it for me._ **

**_Luckily, headlights and side mirrors can be replaced, and Grandpa's friend Hawkeye - who's crashing with him for the summer - said he'll take care of it._ **

**_The ugly: My stupid temper, and the way it sounded when Dewey fell back after I decked him and his skull cracked against the side of the truck. (Then again, if I gave him brain damage, does that mean he'd be smarter now?)_ **

**_So now you know, not only am I a girl who hates shoes, but I like to fight and drink and raise hell, and think slutty thoughts about you an' me on the pier._ **

**_See? Aren't you glad you met me?_ **

**_Oh, and speakin' of the pier, didja find my panties I snuck into that humongous bag of yours? They should be dry by now._ **

**_(From my dip in the creek, perv. Get your mind out of the gutter.)_ **

**_So anyway, how was your day? Please write soon so I have your address – okay, never mind, since you won't even see this unless I already have your address._ **

**_Hold on while I push my hair off my face so I can see what I'm writing._ **

**_I could always put it in a ponytail, but some soldier I know stole my favorite red ribbon, and besides, I like my hair this way._ **

**_I'll leave you with that thought, since I know you love my hair all loose an' unruly, just like me._ **

**_See what I did there?_ **

**_Anyhow, Gomer Pyle's about to come on, it's one I never saw the first time, so I'll stop writing for now._ **

**_Good night, Riley Tucker. Consider this my first letter to you, even if I can't mail it yet._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_Lacy_ **

**_PS – Just realized, the guy in the movie was Lee Van Cleef, not Lee Marvin. I gotta quit downin' Lone Stars when I write to you, or all your buddies over there will think your girlfriend's a lush._ **

**_PS II – I hope you don't mind me calling myself your girlfriend. I feel like I am, even though we just met, and I really hope you feel the same way._ **

**_An' if you don't, too bad._ **

**_So there._ **


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The news events Lacy reacts to really took place on that day, and 'In the Ghetto' – released just three months earlier – would prove to be one of Elvis Presley's biggest hits.

** Hanging With Peg Again **

_**Friday, July 4, 1969 – 10:15pm.** _

**_Man, I gotta quit watchin' the news._ **

**With her notebook safely back in her room and Ma and Peggy not home yet, Lacy stares transfixed at their color TV, an RCA console model currently tuned to the local news out of Lubbock.**

**She sits cross-legged on the floor right in front of the set, listening as** **the announcer describes the heartbreaking scenes from Ohio, where tornadoes and high winds had ripped through a wide area, killing and injuring a bunch of folks who were watching fireworks and minding their own business.**

**_They had no fucking warning._ **

**Lacy jumps up and begins to pace, then throws open the front door and steps outside in her bare feet.**

**And just stands there, the West Texas sky above her so clear and star-filled her chest aches at the sheer beauty of it.**

**_Why, God? Why'd you do that, huh? Them folks in Ohio didn't do shit to you, not like those KKK assholes in North Carolina who been runnin' around in their stupid-ass robes shootin' at black people._ **

**_Send a tornado after them, why don't you?_ **

**She waits, her cheeks damp with tears, but when God doesn't answer Lacy turns on her heel and goes back inside.**

* * *

**An hour later, with Ma and Peggy now home – and Ma having finally gone to bed – Lacy lets her sister into her room and shuts the door.**

**"I come bearing gifts," Peg says, a bottle of Spearmint Schnapps in one hand and a pillowcase full of 45s in the other.**

**"Here, lemme help you." Lacy grabs the bottle, uncaps it, and takes a long swig. "Man, I needed that."**

**Peggy gives her a look. "Hey, whatever happened to 'your booze, you go first?' "**

**"Your booze, my room." She hands the bottle back. "An' I'm sorta thirsty."**

**Peg notices Lacy's glassy eyes and grins.**

**"You've been pilfering Grandpa's Lone Stars again, haven't you?"**

**Lacy shrugs a shoulder. "Only four, but who's counting?" She eyes the pillowcase. "Now lessee what you brought to torture me with."**

**Peggy hands over the pillowcase and watches her sister pull records out one at a time.**

**"Simon & Garfunkel...Joni Mitchell...Bob Dylan...Elvis...Peter, Paul, & Mary...Wait, _Puff, the Magic Dragon?_ Seriously?"**

**"Well, sure. We need to set the mood, don't we?"**

**"For what?"**

**"For this," Peg says, taking a fat joint from the breast pocket of her Betty Boop t-shirt.**

**"Oh, yeah!" Lacy cries happily. "Peggy Sue Wilson, have I told you lately how much I love you?"**

**"Actually, no," Peggy says, sipping some Schnapps and handing the bottle back to Lacy.**

**"Well, I do. And you are absolutely, positively, the best sister ever!"**

**Peg laughs. "Since when?"**

**Lacy looks over at the clock radio on her nightstand. "Since like twenty-four hours ago."**

**Peggy's smile is a little sad. "So, what was I before that?"**

**Lacy ponders a moment, knowing her reply matters to this new bond they are forming. "I dunno, really. My pain-in-the-ass sister who I loved anyway?"**

**"I can live with that," Peg says softly, and when she opens her arms Lacy walks into them without hesitation.**

**The hug is desperate and fierce, both girls overwhelmed by emotion, until finally Lacy pulls back and says, "God, I needed that, too."**

**Then, alternating them so one of Peg's follows one of hers, Lacy stacks six 45s on the spindle of her turntable, locks the record-changer arm in place, and sets the speed.**

**Peggy steps closer to admire the hi-fi unit that sits on Lacy's dresser, flanked by a pair of speakers and featuring an AM/FM receiver in addition to the 3-speed turntable.**

**"Zenith, huh? And new Bose speakers? Nice!"**

**"Yeah," Lacy says, smiling proudly. "Brandon gave me a deal, a hundred bucks for everything." Then her smile disappears. "It just sucks that he had to sell it in the first place."**

**"Why did he?" Peggy asks, having lost touch with Brandon Ramey not long after high school.**

**"He got drafted," Lacy replies. "The money went to his mom to help with expenses since he wouldn't be there anymore an' Josie only works part time."**

**"He's in 'Nam?"**

**"Yeah."**

**Her eyes darken as she thinks of Stuart, out of harm's way in Canada while so many others – Brandon and Riley among them – choose to risk everything in a war she herself has never believed in.**

**_It's all so goddamn pointless,_ Lacy thinks, just as Barry McGuire's _Eve of Destruction_ begins to play, and no other song will ever capture the anger and despair she feels at that moment.**

* * *

**Lacy has never been a big Elvis fan, or one of those girls who swoon at the mere sound of his name, but a bit later when she hears _In the Ghetto_ for the first time, the truth behind the words has her crying so bad she feels tears splashing her green-painted toes.**

**"Okay," she says, swiping at her eyes, " _that_ song I like."**

**Peg nods. "Makes you wanna toss your panties up on stage, doesn't it?"**

**"Not me." Lacy's smile is wicked. "I already slipped mine into some soldier's duffel bag when he wasn't lookin'."**

**The shock on Peggy's face is priceless. "You did not!"**

**"Wanna bet? I don't make shit up."**

**_Not this time, anyway._ **

**Peg still looks skeptical. "Uh-huh. So how'd you get 'em off without him noticing? Guys pay attention to stuff like that."**

**"They were already off."**

**Before Peggy can explore _that_ too closely, a soft tap on the bedroom door startles them both and Lacy hears a muffled sob from the hall.**

**A sob she's heard before.**

**"Joce? Oh my God!"**

**She rushes to open the door, and there's Josie, barefoot and crying in a short cotton nightgown, her tear-streaked face nearly hidden by a tangled mess of long red hair.**

**"He's not dead," she whispers, and collapses into Lacy's arms.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Josie's Bad News**

_**Saturday, July 5, 1969 – 1am.** _

" **Who's not dead?" Peggy asks softly once she and Lacy have settled Josie on the edge of the bed, and settled themselves on either side of her.**

" **My shithead brother," Josie replies with a bitterness that surprises even her. "He's alive, but he'll never walk again."**

" **Oh, no," Lacy cries, horrified. "What happened?"**

" **His platoon or squad or whatever the fuck they call it walked into an ambush, and some gook with a machine gun took out Bran's kneecaps."**

" **Jesus," Peg whispers, while Lacy, for once not knowing what to say, simply rests her head on Josie's shoulder and places a hand on the girl's upper leg.**

**And Josie is suddenly acutely aware of her naked body under her nightgown, the brush of cotton against her skin as Lacy's fingers knead the tense muscles of her bare thigh.**

**Peg watches the silent byplay between them, noting how Josie's nipples stiffen under her threadbare gown.**

**The worst-kept secret in Rebel Creek, Peg knows, is that Josie Ramey likes girls as much as she likes boys.**

**And while Lacy only likes boys, there is an almost-sexual affection she shares with Josie, a bond Peg herself has always envied.**

_**Would it kill Brody to be more loving and less vulgar? No wonder Lacy doesn't like me being with him.** _

" **Damn, sis!"**

**Lacy's voice snaps her out of her reverie, and Peg sees her sister's wide green eyes fixed on her chest.**

" **What?" She fingers the joint still in her shirt pocket. "You wanna do a toke now?"**

" **No. I mean, yeah, but that ain't what I'm lookin' at."**

**Peggy raises a brow, waiting, and finally Lacy grins.**

" **Never seen Betty with nipples before."**

**Peg looks down at herself, at her braless breasts clearly defined under her tee.**

_**Damn, sis, indeed.** _

" **What's all the fuss, Lace?" Peg asks, sounding defensive. "We're in your room tonight, so I figured 'when in Rome' and all that."**

**"This ain't Rome," Lacy says flippantly. "This is Heathe."**

**The sudden gleam in her sister's narrowed green eyes tells Peg that, even if all is forgiven between them, it isn't necessarily forgotten.**

" **Heathe?" Josie says, accepting the Schnapps from Lacy and wondering at the new tension in the room.**

" **Where heathens live," Peg tells her. "Lacy hasn't forgotten the time I called her one."**

" **You called Ma one, too," Lacy reminds her, and as if on cue there's another tap on the door before Evelyn opens it and comes in.**

* * *

_**A little while earlier.** _

**Evelyn Wilson hangs up the phone, stunned by what Mary Ramey has just told her, unable to imagine what her friend must be feeling right then, or her girls either.**

" **That poor boy," she mutters aloud, knowing her own girls will be devasted.**

**She looks out the kitchen window in time to see a souped-up white Camaro enter her driveway too fast and come to a skidding stop next to Peggy's truck.**

_**Josie.** _

**Evelyn is not surprised that the girl would come by now, despite the late hour - she and Lacy have been tighter than any drum since the first grade, fighting each other's battles with a fierceness that soon put everyone in Rebel Creek on notice.**

_**Mess with her, mess with me.** _

**And now Josie's in a battle unlike any she or Lacy have ever faced before, and Evelyn wishes she could fight it for her.**

" **Come here, honey," she says, opening the front door for one very distraught, very disheveled girl and wrapping her in a tight embrace.**

**Josie finally breaks the hug, sniffling and wiping at her eyes.**

" **I must look like hell," she says softly, "but right this minute I don't care."**

**Evelyn smiles sadly. "You look like Lacy would if she was in your shoes."**

" **Not like I'm wearin' any," Josie says ruefully, glancing down at her bare feet.**

" **Don't sweat it," Evelyn says as she ushers the girl into the living room and closes the door. "You and Lacy are kindred spirits that way."**

" **In a lot of ways," Josie corrects her. "An' she's gonna freak about Brandon."**

" **Peggy will too. They're both in Lacy's room listening to records."**

" **Can I just go on up?"**

" **Of course. And listen, sweetie, I'm really sorry about Brandon. Y'all are like family to me."**

" **Thank you," Josie whispers, giving her another teary hug before heading upstairs.**

**Evelyn waits a few minutes to see if any of the girls will need her for anything, but when Lacy's door closes and stays closed, she goes to the phone to call Mary back and let her know Josie is safe at her house.**

* * *

**Now, as she enters Lacy's bedroom, the last thing she expects to see is all three girls sitting side-by-side on the bed, passing the Schnapps around while Henson Cargill's _Skip a Rope_ plays on the stereo.**

**Evelyn notes the casual way Josie holds Lacy's hand on her thigh, their fingers entwined in a death grip as Lacy arches a brow at her entrance.**

" **Sure, Ma, barge right in, why don't you?"**

" **Hush, you. And did I just hear you fussing at your sister over that old 'heathens' nonsense? I thought y'all were past all that."**

" **We are," Lacy assures her, then gives Peg a crooked smile. "'Specially now that she's a heathen, too."**

" **I'm not a heathen," Peg protests. "Ma, tell her!"**

" **We're all heathens," Evelyn says, turning her gaze on Josie. "Sweetheart, I called your mom back to let her know you're spending the night, and that if you need me to, I'll drive you home in the morning."**

" **Thank you, ma'am. I am so gonna take you up on that."**

**With that settled, Josie takes the Schnapps and downs half of what's left.**

**Lacy stares at her friend, then looks at Peggy.**

" **We're gonna need more."**

* * *

**A few minutes later, with Ma back in her room and Peg fetching more Schnapps from her dresser, Lacy – who's always been Stuart's staunchest defender – looks at Josie and blurts out the words she's been biting back since learning of Brandon's shattered knees.**

" **Joce, I'm sorry, okay?"**

" **About what? My brother's shit, or somethin' else?"**

**Lacy looks down at her feet, unable to look Josie in the eye. "About Stuart. You must really hate him right now."**

**The words no sooner leave her mouth than Josie is on her feet, shaking Lacy so hard her hair falls into her face and her teeth click together.**

" **Don't you dare! Don't you turn against your brother for havin' a conscience, just 'cause mine followed blindly where he was told to go." Her voice drops to a barely-audible whisper. "Just don't you dare."**

**And just like that the shaking stops. The two girls stare at each other through wild hair, their breathing ragged, until at last Josie reaches out to push the hair out of Lacy's eyes.**

" **Lace, I'm sorry for shaking you. It's just, I know how much you love Stuart, and I don't want you to lose that."**

" **Ain't gonna happen. But we both know the real reason you did me like a rag doll."**

" **We do?"**

" **Yeah. You just wanted to see my tits bounce."**

" **Your tits don't bounce, they jiggle." Josie strokes a long strand of Lacy's hair. _"Peggy's_ tits bounce. _"_**

**Then, as if suddenly overwhelmed, Josie drops to her knees, lays her head on Lacy's lap, and bursts into tears.**

" **Joce, don't cry, okay?" Lacy starts to caress the tousled red hair fanned out over her bare legs. "We'll get through this, just like we always did before."**

" **I know," Josie whispers, her breath tickling Lacy's thigh. "You an' me against the whole fuckin' world."**

" **Damn straight," Lacy replies fiercely, her fingers gently working through the tangles in her friend's hair, and that's when Peggy comes back into the bedroom.**

" **I'm back," Peg announces, then stops dead at the scene before her.**

_**What the hell?** _

" **Am I interrupting something?" she asks, her hands – one of which is holding a new fifth of Schnapps – going to her hips.**

" **It ain't what you think," Lacy tells her. "Joce just got done tellin' me how _your_ tits bounce better'n mine."**

**Josie raises her head slightly. "That was before I got all weepy and needed a lap to cry on." And to Lacy she says, "You know I'll always love you better."**

**Peggy looks at the two younger girls, so tuned into each other, and shakes her head.**

" **Y'all are weird," she mutters, and not caring _whose_ damn room she's in, uncaps the new bottle of Schnapps and takes the first swig.**


	17. Chapter 17

** Josie Writes To Brandon **

** _Saturday, July 5, 1969 – 5am._ **

**Just before five that morning, with the second bottle of Schnapps down to fumes and Brody's best home-grown a hazy memory, Peggy stifles a yawn.**

**"Well, ladies, it's been fun, but this gal has to help Ma at the cafe later, so it's off to bed for me." She grins at Lacy, who's lying on her bed drifting in and out of sleep.**

**"No offense, sis."**

**Her sister waves a dismissive hand without opening her eyes.**

**"'S'okay."**

**Cross-legged on the bed next to her, with Lacy's paperback copy of _The Godfather_ held in her lap, Josie gives Peggy an unblinking look.**

**"Peg, thank you for bein' here for me. You an' Lace – and your mom, too – made this shit with Brandon at least bearable for me."**

**Peggy comes over and hugs her hard.**

**"Girl, no thanks necessary, okay?" She winks. "You're like the little sister I never had."**

**Lacy gives her the finger, not even bothering to move her hand off her belly, and Josie and Peggy grin at each other.**

**After Peg is gone, Josie nudges Lacy's leg with her toe.**

**"Hey, Lace."**

**No reply, so Josie nudges her again, this time using her whole foot.**

**"C'mon, Wilson, wake up. I'm bored."**

**"Lea'me 'lone."**

**Josie dog-ears her page in _The Godfather_ and sets it on the nightstand, wide awake and still so goddamned pissed at Brandon she could spit nails.**

**_A letter,_ she thinks. _I should write him a pretend letter and get all this shit off my chest._**

**Josie looks fondly at her best friend, who is now wearing just her cute cami top and matching black panties, and flicks a finger across her left nipple.**

**"Ow!"**

**"Serves you right. Now open your eyes an' tell me where you keep your writing paper and pens, or I'll do the other one."**

**A small smile curves Lacy's lips, and she squeezes her eyes shut tighter.**

* * *

**_Dear Dipshit,_ **

**_Yeah, you. You think just 'cause you're crippled now I'm gonna forget all the shit you put Ma through, or the shit you put me through over liking girls?_ **

**_Fat chance._ **

**_And that ain't even countin' the time you slapped Lisa._ **

**_So sue me if I don't cry a river for your poor, dumb self. You coulda went to Canada like Stuart asked you to._ **

**_Like Ma fuckin' begged you to._ **

**_But no, you were too goddamn self-righteous for that, so there you are, with no knees an' no future, and you know what?_ **

**_I don't care. You're my brother, an' I still don't fuckin' care._ **

**_How screwed is that?_ **

**_Maybe someday I'll feel different – God, I hope so – but right now I hope that place you're in keeps you._ **

**_If not, I'll just learn to be civil, for Ma's sake._ **

**_Sorry for bein' so harsh._ **

**_Really._ **

**_'Til whenever,_ **

**_Your almost-sister,_ **

**_Josie_ **

**_PS – I wasn't gonna mail this, but Lacy - who's lyin' here next to me half naked, by the way – says you need to read every word._ **

* * *

**Lacy, still lying on her bed with Josie cross-legged next to her, watches the other girl affix a 6-cent stamp to the sealed envelope and set it next to the Mario Puzo paperback on her nightstand.**

**"Y'know," she says laconically, "the Post Office ain't gonna deliver that without an address on it."**

**"No shit, Miss Sherlock," Josie retorts. "Ma's got his info at home, he's at some Army hospital in San Francisco."**

**"Letterman?"**

**"Yeah, that's the one. How'd you know?"**

**"Grandpa told me about it one time, he said a lot of guys wounded in Korea got sent there." Lacy puts a hand on Josie's knee. "Joce, thanks for lettin' me read the letter."**

**"You're not mad?"**

**"'Bout what?"**

**"That I never confided in you about what a prick my brother is."**

**Lacy shrugs. "Always figured you'd tell me when you felt like it."**

**Josie's jaw drops. "You knew?"**

**"Not how bad it really was, but I had an idea."**

**"But how? Ma made Lisa an' me promise not to say shit to anyone about Bran's 'bad spells.'"**

**Lacy arches a brow. "Not even me?"**

**" _Especially_ not you. She said, and I quote, 'I love that girl to death, but I don't want her murdering my only son.' _"_**

**"I still might," Lacy mutters, then takes a deep breath. "So what made Brandon slap Lisa?"**

**"'Cause he's an ass. He hated it when my parents adopted her out of foster care, an' he was mad 'cause she only bonded with me."**

**"She was five, right? An' you were seven. 'Course y'all bonded."**

**Josie nods, remembering. "Anyway, when Daddy died a year later, Brandon became mean, and took it out mostly on her." She sighs. "And Lisa learned to fight back, little as she was."**

**"Kinda like Peg an' me in those days."**

**"Exactly. But at least you an' her finally worked shit out."**

**"Hey, it was either that or kill each other someday." She gives Josie a nudge. "But you still ain't answered my damn question."**

**"Which was?"**

**"Why dickwad slapped Lisa that time you wrote about."**

**"Oh, yeah." Josie pushes back a lock of hair, which immediately falls back over her left eye. "It was her thirteenth birthday, an' to celebrate Ma gave her a tube of clear lip gloss. Brandon didn't know this, so when Lisa came into the kitchen with her lips all shiny he got pissed."**

**"What happened?"**

**"I wasn't there, an' Ma was at work, so it was just them. And my brother messed with the wrong little girl."**


	18. Chapter 18

**The Wrong Little Girl**

**_Sunday, January 12, 1969 – 10am._ **

**Today Lisa Ramey turns thirteen, which to be honest excites her mother more – _way_ more – than it excites her.**

**_So I'm a teenager. Big stupid deal._ **

**"Aren't you happy to be thirteen at last?" Mary Ramey asks, looking hurt at her daughter's decided lack of enthusiasm for her big day. "It isn't every day a girl passes from childhood to teenagerhood."**

**_Teenagerhood? Seriously?_ **

**She shrugs. "Nothin' feels different, Ma."**

**Lisa pads over to the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, still in Josie's _Rebel Creek Renegades_ sweatshirt she'd slept in, her legs and feet bare and her shoulder-length blonde hair a total mess.**

**She cocks her head to one side, looking at herself through narrowed blue eyes.**

**"Nothin' _looks_ different, neither."**

**_Least of all her barely-there breasts._ **

**As if reading the girl's thoughts, Mary meets her gaze in the mirror and smiles.**

**"Be patient, honey. They won't always be that small. Josie got hers at fourteen, and if I remember right, mine didn't make an appearance 'til I was almost sixteen."**

**"You ain't helpin', Ma."**

**With a deep sigh Lisa throws herself down onto her unmade bed and stares up at the ceiling.**

**"You workin' today?" she asks after a moment.**

**Mary nods. "I am. Gotta be at the shop at eleven." She eyes Lisa's long, unruly locks. "You should come with me, I could trim up that mop of yours for the party this evening."**

**Lisa sits up, horrified not only by the party she knows nothing about, but also by the thought of letting her mother anywhere _near_ her hair with a pair of scissors in her hand.**

**"No way, Ma! I like my mop just the way it is." She curls her left leg up under her butt and digs the toes of her right foot into the worn carpet. "But thanks very much for the lip gloss an' nail polish. I really like the _Purple_ _Passion_."**

**"You are very welcome," Mary replies, glancing at her watch. "I should head out."**

**And just like that, after a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek for Lisa, she's gone.**

* * *

**Brandon's at the sink doing dishes when Lisa comes into the kitchen a short time later, barefoot as usual in tight, faded jeans and the same sweatshirt.**

**"Don't you ever wear shoes?" he asks sourly, annoyed with her for no reason she can think of.**

**"Mostly for school an' when it snows. Why do _you_ care, anyway? Ain't no skin off your ass if I wear shoes or not."**

**He scowls at her sass. "Maybe not, but still. You and Josie are like two barefoot peas in a pod."**

**"Don't forget Lacy. And why is that bad?"**

**Brandon ignores that, finally noticing her glossy lips and purple toenails.**

**"What's that greasy shit on your mouth?"**

**"Lip gloss. Ma gave it to me."**

**"Well, get rid of it. You look like some teenybopper slut."**

**Lisa stares at him, mouth agape.**

**"Did you seriously just call me a slut?"**

**"Course not. I said you look like one. And you need to get that shit off your mouth before I do it for you."**

**"No."**

**Without another word Brandon grabs her chin roughly with one hand and the wet, greasy dishrag with the other, then none-too-gently wipes her face with it.**

**Her _whole_ face.**

**"That'll teach you," he mutters, wringing the dishrag out in her hair as a final insult.**

**Lisa, struggling to free herself, lands a wild punch to his left ear.**

**He lets go of her chin, giving her an amused, insolent grin.**

**"You still hit like a girl."**

**"I _am_ a girl, you stupid shit!" she cries, throwing a left jab that flattens his nose and spatters blood all over both of them.**

**Brandon stares at her for a full five seconds before the back of his hand smacks across her face and sends her falling back against the sink.**

**They glare at each other, breathing hard, until with a muttered oath Brandon slams out the back door and roars off on his Harley.**

**_I hope you crash,_ Lisa thinks, too furious to cry and humiliated beyond words. _An' I'll show you who hits like a girl._**

* * *

**Back in her room, with The Rolling Stones' new album _Beggars Banquet –_ her early birthday gift from Lacy – blasting from her speakers, Lisa strips off the wet _Renegades_ sweatshirt and replaces it with her favorite tee, the _Don't Tread On Me_ one with the rattlesnake on it.**

**One look at herself in the mirror, at her greasy face and icky hair, and she barely refrains from slamming her fist into her reflection.**

**It's not Brandon's slap she cares about, she's endured _those_ for years, but what has her so incensed is how she'd felt when he took the rag to her face and then so callously squeezed it out on her.**

**Like she wasn't his sister at all, just some pathetic girl to be treated like dirt and shoved aside.**

**_That's all you are to him. It's all you ever were._ **

**"Fuck that," she says aloud, grabbing her aluminum bat from its corner and heading for the hall. "And fuck him, too."**

* * *

**The first thing Lisa sees as she crosses the narrow hall is the new sign taped to the outside of Brandon's bedroom door.**

**_This is my room, so unless I invite you, stay the fuck out._ **

**With a very unladylike curse she rips the sign off the door, tears it into little bitty pieces, and watches them flutter down like confetti around her bare feet.**

**Then, choosing _not_ to wait for an invite, Lisa pushes open the door and stalks inside.**

* * *

**She selects her targets carefully, still killing-mad but not wanting to destroy anything Ma paid for, like lamps or mirrors, or anything she might set store by, like Brandon's framed high school diploma and his Boy Scout merit badges.**

**_Everything else, however, is fair game._ **

**First she takes out his baseball trophies, liking the irony of it, then his old Panasonic radio.**

**She looks for his stereo system, remembers he'd sold it to Lacy, and raises her bat to smash his Revell and Monogram muscle-car models to smithereens.**

**The bat never descends.**

**_What are you doing? This ain't how Ma raised you._ **

**She plops down on his bed, bat across her thighs, her anger suddenly spent.**

**_God, I'm so tired,_ she thinks, her mind shutting down, and then Lisa Marie Ramey, vengeful teenybopper slut, lies back on the bed and closes her eyes, just for a moment.**

**Which is how Josie finds her an hour later when she returns from a sleepover at Lacy's.**

* * *

**As Lisa tells Josie what Brandon had done, the older girl nearly takes the bat from her to finish what she'd started, but in the end she settles for helping Lisa transfer his models, his red lava lamp, and all the records he can't listen to anyway back to the room they share.**

* * *

**"Two wrongs don't make a right," Mary says when Lisa calls her at the beauty shop where she works to tell her what happened.**

**"I know, Ma. That's why I stopped." Then something occurs to her. "Oh, shit."**

**"What?" Mary asks, too frazzled by Lisa's experience with Brandon to correct her daughter's use of profanity.**

**"You should postpone the party."**

**"Why?"**

**"'Cause Brandon don't know I trashed his stuff. He's gonna be pissed when he gets home."**

**Mary sighs. "He's not coming home."**

**"How come?" Lisa asks, afraid her earlier wish about him crashing his bike had come true. "He ain't dead, is he?"**

**"Of course not. Whatever gave you that idea?"**

**"Never mind. So why _isn't_ he comin' home? 'Cause of me?"**

**"Yes. He called me here at the shop to tell me he wasn't gonna spend another night under the same roof with, and I quote, 'a raving, mouthy bitch like Lisa.'"**

**"He called me that? Cool!"**

**"And why, may I ask, do you find that a _good_ thing?"**

**"'Cause if he liked me, there'd be somethin' wrong with my ass."**

**This time Mary _does_ scold. "Lisa, how many times have I asked you not to use that kind of language?"**

**_Too many,_ Lisa thinks, but what she says is, "A lot."**

**"Uh-huh. And have you ever obeyed me?"**

**"'Parently not," Lisa admits.**

**Mary sighs again. "What would you do if I was to wash your mouth out with soap? Other parents do."**

**Lisa's voice goes flat. "After what Brandon did to me this morning, I'd prob'ly cuss at _you_." She takes a ragged breath. "So what else did Brandon say to you, anyway?"**

**"Not a whole lot. All I got outta him was that part about you being mouthy, and would I please have Josie bring his suitcase to Brody's place."**

**"Wait, he's stayin' at _Brody's_ until his bus leaves for California? That's three whole days!"**

**"Yeah, I know," Mary says sarcastically. "I can read a calendar same as anybody."**

**Lisa huffs in exasperation. "Ma, don't you get it? Brody Aiken is the biggest toker in Rebel Creek. Brandon's gonna show up for Basic either drunk or high, or prob'ly both."**

**"Jesus," Mary mutters, absorbing this news. "Does Evvie Wilson know that about Brody?"**

**"I dunno. Why's it matter?"**

**"Never mind, I'll have to ask her myself. And honey, I'm sorry about Brandon, okay? I didn't know my son was such an ass."**

**"Hell, Ma," Lisa says honestly, "I've known _that_ since y'all 'dopted me."**

* * *

**To Lisa's total surprise and relief, the get-together that evening is a Super Bowl party, not a birthday one, and Ma makes her and Josie swear not to mention a word about the incident with Brandon.**

**A promise Lisa is, for the most part, only too happy to keep.**


	19. Chapter 19

** Saturday Revelations  **

** _Saturday, July 5, 1969 – 6:30am._ **

**"I remember that party," Lacy says as Josie finishes telling her about Lisa's less-than-happy 13th birthday. "Me, you, an' Lisa were like the only kids there, an' that Joe Namath guy won the Super Bowl."**

**"Yeah, and Lise, who usually chatters like a magpie, hardly said two words the whole night."**

**"Was she that upset? Or afraid to spill the beans about Brandon?"**

**"Oh, she was upset all right, but that never shut her up before. Mainly she was biting her tongue not to tell what happened, under Ma's threat of severe bodily harm."**

**Lacy laughs. "Poor kid. I kept catchin' her lookin' at me, like she was about to say something, then your mom would walk by or laugh at somethin' someone said, an' she shut up quick."**

**Josie nods. "Yeah. You were the one she was dyin' to tell, more than any of Ma's grown-up friends."**

**"Me?"**

**"Of course, you. You know she worships you, right?"**

**At this Lacy looks embarrassed. "Now you're makin' me blush, an' I never blush."**

**"Uh-huh," Josie scoffs. "'Cept when you talk about Riley, or that Hawkeye gent we met yesterday, or Marcus the Magnificent..."**

**"Oh, hush," Lacy scolds, bur she's smiling as she says it.**

* * *

**Meanwhile, in a part of town that would be the wrong side of the tracks if Rebel Creek _had_ tracks, Mary Ramey comes into the living room of her small but well-kept house to find her youngest daughter cross-legged in front of the TV in gym shorts and a pajama top, a bowl of Apple Jacks cradled in her lap.**

**"Mornin', Ma," Lisa says, barely taking her eyes off _George of the Jungle._**

**"It is that," Mary agrees, ruffling Lisa's hair affectionately. "Barely past sunrise, in fact, but if this was a school day you'd be kickin' and screamin' about getting up at eight."**

**Lisa shudders at the mere mention of school. "Don't say the s-word. And watch, this is the part where he crashes into the tree."**

**And sure enough, right then the on-screen cartoon hero slams into a tree with enough force to kill a mere mortal.**

**"Honey, you do know what would happen if a real flesh-and-blood human tried that, don't you?"**

**Lisa, a bit miffed at having her IQ questioned, takes her time answering.**

**"Well, sure. It'd take Ursula and Shep like forever to find him, and by then there'd be only them two things left to bury."**

**"What two things?" Mary asks, pretty sure she doesn't want to know.**

**"Flesh and blood," Lacy says, totally deadpan, then returns her attention back to the TV.**

**_Game, set, match._ **

* * *

**Mary is sitting at the kitchen table, head down on her arms, when Lisa – always so quiet with her barefoot stealth – puts a hand on her shoulder and scares ten years off her life.**

**"Worryin' about bills again, Ma?"**

**"Don't sneak up on me like that. And how do you know I worry about the bills?"**

**"'Cause _I_ been frettin' some, too, 'specially now that Brandon's comin' home too fucked-up to work at the lumberyard anymore."**

**Mary opens her mouth to protest Lisa's casual use of _that_ particular word, then notices the gleam in her daughter's eyes.**

**"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"**

**Lisa grins. "Just wanted to see if you were payin' attention."**

**"I was, and that was an evil thing to do to your own mother." She sips her coffee. "And shouldn't you be in there watching your shows?"**

**Lisa shrugs. _"George_ is over, an' _Bugs Bunny_ don't start 'til 7:30."**

**"I see. But what show is that playing now? I don't recognize the music."**

**Lisa wrinkles her nose. "Some baby show called _Go Go Gophers._ "**

**She comes up behind Mary and begins to massage her tense shoulders.**

**"That feels good," Mary says with a groan of pleasure. "But why'd you leave the TV on if you're not watching?"**

**"So I can hear when _Bugs_ starts."**

**"Running that squawk box needlessly wastes electricity," Mary fusses, and Lisa's hands pause on her shoulders.**

**"Maybe, but so does watchin' _Lawrence Welk,_ so we're even."**

**As Lisa goes to work on her mother's neck, Mary changes gears.**

**"If you'd wear the watch your brother gave you last Christmas, you wouldn't need to use the television to tell time."**

**"I don't have a brother, Ma. Don't have the watch, neither."**

**Mary arches her brows. "You lost it?"**

**"I took a hammer to it after that shit on my birthday." She pauses, her voice tinged with regret. "Shoulda sold it instead, since I reckon that hundred bucks you got from Brandon sellin' his stereo didn't stretch real far."**

**Mary feels herself flinch, a long-held suspicion now confirmed, and once again Lisa's fingers go still.**

**"What is it, Ma? What'd I say wrong?"**

**"Nothing," Mary mutters, but she's never been a good liar and Lisa knows her too well.**

**"Bullshit, Ma. Tell me what's wrong."**

**"Why? So you can hate him even more?"**

**The bitterness in her mother's voice hurts, but Lisa forces herself not to back down.**

**"I dunno, Ma. But I ain't never gonna hate him any less, so you might as well just say it already."**

**"Have a seat and I will."**

**Lisa drops into a chair across from her and folds her hands on the table. And when Mary finally sighs and confides the truth, her daughter just stares at her, unable to speak.**

**Then, barefoot and in her pajama top and shorts, she jumps up without a word and runs out the back door.**

* * *

**_The phone rings._ **

**" _Hello?"_**

**" _Evvie, it's Mary. I think Lisa's headed your way, barefoot, half-naked, and in a full-on mad."_**

**" _Who's she mad at?"_**

**" _Brandon."_**

**" _No surprise there. What'd he do this time?"_**

**" _I'll let y'all hear it from her."_**

**_The phone goes dead_.**

* * *

**Lisa sprints the whole way to Lacy's house, arriving sweaty and winded but no less angry, and the sight of Josie's Camaro in the Wilsons' driveway means she didn't just run herself half to death for nothing.**

**She stands with her hands on her knees to catch her breath, then straightens and pushes damp, tangled hair off her flushed face. Then the front door opens and Lacy's mom is there, smiling at her from the porch.**

**"Hello, Lisa. You made good time."**

**"'Lo, Miz Wilson. I reckon Ma called you."**

**"She sure did. Told me to be on the lookout for an unshod, scantily-clad, and very discombobulated teenager."**

**Lisa grins in spite of herself. "Knowin' Ma, what she likely said was, 'barefooted, near-naked, and pissed as hell,' but yeah, that's me."**

**"Well, come on in out of the heat, then. The girls'll be happy to see you, and I might just have a glass of ice-cold lemonade with your name on it."**

**Lisa's grin widens. "Oh, man! See, this is why I always tell folks you're my favorite mom besides mine."**

**And Evelyn, touched beyond words, hopes this spunky girl – so much like Lacy – doesn't see the sudden tears in her eyes.**

* * *

**Fifteen minutes later, the five of them – Lacy, Josie, Lisa, Peggy, and Evelyn – sit crowded around the kitchen table, all but Evelyn in various stages of undress, all barefoot, and each with a tall glass of lemonade in front of her.**

**"Do you all really need me here?" Peg asks, half-asleep and grouchy. "If this is about Brandon like Ma said, then I don't see why my presence is required."**

**Lisa answers bluntly. "'Cause your dopehead boyfriend is Brandon's only friend, so I figured this concerns you, too."**

**The older girl wants to argue, but Brody _is_ her dopehead boyfriend, so she simply crosses her arms and says nothing.**

**"What's this about, Lise?" Josie prods gently, and Lisa turns her glittering blue eyes on Lacy.**

**"Lace, back when Brandon sold you his stereo, how much did you give him for it?"**

**"A hundred bucks, like I told y'all before. He wanted it for your mom to help out with bills an' shit."**

**"Like hell. He told Ma you only gave him fifty, an' kept the rest for himself." Lisa pauses to push back her hair. "Ma almost wouldn't tell me."**

**At this news Lacy and Josie both jump to their feet, and Evelyn puts a hand to her forehead and swears under her breath.**

**"That little shit!" Lacy cries. "He practically begged me for that money, said the speakers alone were worth that much, but with him leavin' soon y'all were desperate for cash."**

**" _He_ was desperate," Josie says scornfully, pacing from one end of the kitchen to the other. "More'n likely him an' Brody spent that other fifty bucks down at Mace's Honky-Tonk."**

**"They did," Peggy says icily. "Brody invited me to join them, he said Brandon came into some money and they were celebrating."**

**"Did you go?" Lacy asks, ready to be mad even though Peg couldn't have known where Brandon's windfall came from.**

**"Hell, no. Last thing I wanted to do was watch those two idiots getting shit-faced. I curled up with a book instead."**

**Evelyn looks at the clock on the wall above the stove, then at Josie and Lisa. "I should probably get you girls home to your mother, so get your things and let's go."**

**"What things?" Lacy says, eyeing Josie in her nightgown and Lisa in her pajama top and skimpy shorts, and _that_ gets a much-needed laugh.**

**"We gotta make a plan," Josie whispers as they hug goodbye.**

**"For sure," Lacy whispers back. "Is your mom still hosting bridge tonight?"**

**"I think so."**

**"Cool. I'll make Ma fetch me with her."**

* * *

**_The phone rings._ **

**" _Hello, Brody here."_**

**" _It's me, Peggy."_**

**" _Hey, babe. How's it hangin'?"_**

**" _It's not, 'cause I'm a girl. But whatever. I got two things to say to you."_**

**" _Go for it."_**

**" _First off, next time you talk to Brandon, tell him he's a big dick. And second, next time you want someone to play with yours, call some other girl. I'm done."_**

**_The phone goes dead._ **

_**Loudly.** _


	20. Chapter 20

**A New Friend And Ally**

**_Saturday, July 5, 1969 – 5:15pm._ **

**By the time Peggy and Ma pull up in the red El Camino a little past five, Lacy is pacing the front porch in flip-flops, a pleated black-and-maroon miniskirt - courtesy of her single, misguided attempt to join cheer squad - and one of her gray _Lady Renegades_ crop tops with the sleeves cut off. Her hair, still damp from the shower she'd just taken out of sheer boredom, falls loosely over her shoulders and down her back.**

**August 4th – and her new truck – can't come fast enough, nor can whenever the hell she'll see Brandon again so she can kick his ass from one end of Rebel Creek to the other.**

**_And right off the end of the damn pier, wheelchair an' all._ **

**"Y'all are late," she says accusingly as she slides into the cab of the truck next to Ma, slips off her flip-flops, and puts her bare feet up on the dash.**

**"Had to wait for Ruth Ann," Peggy replies, eyeing the glossy black polish on her sister's toes. "She's covering for me tonight so I can join in on whatever devious shit you, Josie, and Lisa are gonna cook up."**

**Lacy narrows her eyes. "So you can tell Brody?"**

**"Screw Brody. I broke it off with him."**

**"Hallelujah," Evelyn mutters, and Peggy raises a brow at her.**

**"Wait, Ma. All this time I was with Brody, and you never let on you didn't like him?"**

**Evelyn shrugs. "You're a big girl, more than capable of making her own choices." She grins. "And if his, um, source of income ever got you arrested, I figured you were just as capable of bailing your own butt out of jail, too."**

**"Ha, ha," Peggy says sarcastically as Evelyn and Lacy slap palms.**

* * *

**The drive across town takes all of ten minutes, and when they arrive at the Ramey place there are already six vehicles in the overflowing driveway - four station wagons, Josie's Camaro, and one black Ford Ranchero pickup tricked out to rival Lacy's soon-to-be delivered El Camino - so Peggy parks _her_ El Camino at the curb.**

**"Whose truck is that?" Lacy wants to know. "An' ain't bridge a four-player game?"**

**"It is," Evelyn replies, "but Mary has it set up like a small tournament, with two games going at once and the winning teams then playing each other to crown a champion. And that truck belongs to Ellie Austen."**

**Lacy frowns. "Missy Jo's ma?"**

**"Her aunt. But don't worry, she's nothing like the evil brat her sister raised, and she's closer to Peggy's age than mine. Y'all should get along fine."**

**"I like her already," Lacy says, her eyes widening as she notices the sprinkler oscillating water all over Josie's front lawn. "The sprinkler's on!"**

**And just like that she's out of the truck, ignoring Evelyn's futile "Lacy, no!" and accidentally-on-purpose leaving her flip-flops on the floorboard.**

**"That girl," Evelyn mutters, watching her youngest daughter dance in the wet grass as the sprinkler drenches her from head to toe.**

**"We should join her," Peg says wistfully, knowing Evelyn will never even consider such a thing.**

**"I would, but those society ladies in there would think I'd lost my last marble."**

**Peggy raises both brows. "Rebel Creek has society ladies?"**

**" _They_ think they are, _"_ Evelyn says, then watches in horror as Peggy kicks off her sandals. "What are you doing?"**

**"Joining her. As the older sibling, it's up to me not to let Lacy make a fool out of herself alone."**

**Then she too is gone, leaving Evelyn almost ready to join them.**

**_Almost._ **

* * *

**Ten minutes later, with Evelyn having gone inside already, Mary Ramey greets Lacy and Peg at the front door with a pair of large towels.**

**"Here you go, girls. Dry off the best you can and come on in so you can meet everyone."**

**"Thank you, Miz Ramey," Lacy says. "We'll be in shortly."**

**Mary returns to her guests, leaving the door ajar.**

**As Lacy uses her towel to wring water from her hair, Josie's calico cat – named Callie, appropriately enough – comes out onto the porch, purring loudly and plopping herself down on Lacy's feet.**

**"Hey, pretty girl," Lacy croons, tossing the towel aside so she can pick Callie up and hug her to her chest. "Did you miss me?"**

**The cat meows, then a sandpapery tongue scrapes over Lacy's left nipple, which immediately springs to attention under her wet t-shirt.**

**"She likes you," Peg says wryly as she vigorously dries her own much-shorter hair.**

**"Can you tell she's my cat?" Josie says, grinning at Lacy from just inside the front door.**

**"The little wench takes after you." Lacy hands Callie over to her mistress. "But if she ever does that again I might hafta take her home with me."**

**"Where she goes, I go," Josie says, giving her friend a smoky look.**

**And not for the first time, Lacy wonders what it'd be like if she was into girls, too.**

* * *

**Just before six, with Josie and Lisa up in their room, and Ma and Peggy in the kitchen helping Mary put together a snack tray, Lacy faces off with the bridge club members, nice and dry now in an oversized white tee she'd borrowed from Josie, her legs and feet bare as she stands before them.**

**Gertrude Peabody, alas, is not impressed by what she sees.**

**"In my day, Miss Wilson, proper young ladies wore brassieres."**

**"Well, bless their hearts," Lacy says, her eyes alight with the joy of battle. "What'd girls like me wear?"**

**Before Mrs. Peabody – the high school secretary and wife of the principal - can think of a scathing reply, Ellie Austen comes to Lacy's defense.**

**"Lay off, Gertrude. This ain't your turf, and back in _your_ day ladies wore petticoats and corsets, too."**

**Ellie is much younger than the other women, maybe thirty at most, with long brown hair and matching eyes, casually dressed in old jeans and a white blouse that makes it perfectly clear she has nothing on under it.**

**And she's _barefoot,_ with dark blue polish on her own naked toes.**

**Lacy grins at her. "I like you, just like Ma said I would."**

**"I like you, too," Ellie says, returning the grin. "Any girl who can stand up to my witch of a niece is okay by me."**

**Gertrude is glaring at both of them, but right then Josie and Lisa come racing into the living room and she finds herself outnumbered by barefoot, half-dressed teenagers.**

**And when Mary, Evelyn, and Peggy enter from the kitchen a moment later, the battle is lost.**

* * *

**Lacy, Josie, Peg, and Lisa sit in a cross-legged semi-circle around the TV, paying no mind to the animated banter of the card-playing women behind them. They watch the first half hour of Roller Derby, then switch channels to check out Kent McCord on the cop show _Adam-12._**

**"That guy is pretty bitchin'," Lisa says, and the others – even Peggy – agree.**

**"Damn straight!" a voice calls out from one of the card tables, and Lacy looks over to see Ellie grinning at her.**

**Her and Ma are partners against Gertrude Peabody and Mabel Lane, who has been the secretary at Rebel Creek Elementary since before the Dust Bowl days.**

**"Don't encourage them," Gertrude says sternly. "As the newest member of our faculty, you will need to set a proper example, not parade around looking more like a teenager than the kids you're supposed to be educating."**

**Ellie's brown eyes narrow. "So long as I'm within the dress code, how I parade around is no concern of yours."**

**"Right on, Miss Austen!" Lacy says, then remembers a rumor she'd heard toward the end of last year. "And please, please, please tell me you're gonna teach the new Creative Writing class that's startin' up."**

**"Yes, ma'am. And since we're friends, you can call me Ellie outside of class."**

**"That go for us, too?" Josie asks, indicating herself and Lisa.**

**"It goes for everybody." Ellie smiles warmly at Lacy. "I already know from your mom that you write short stories, which I look forward to reading, but how are you at essays?"**

**Lacy arches a brow. "I've never written one. Can I still be creative?"**

**"For sure. Basically how it works is, I assign a topic and you write your opinion on it, which I'm kinda thinking you'll be really good at."**

**"Damn straight," Lacy replies happily, echoing Ellie's own words, and everyone there except the two school secretaries rewards her with a laugh.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Making Plans**

**_Saturday, July 5, 1969 – 7:10pm._ **

**"Man," Josie says as she puts on Iron Butterfly's _In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida_ album, "I can't believe grown-ups actually like that _'wunnerful, wunnerful, wunnerful' g_ uy. That shit puts me to sleep."**

**"No lie," Lacy agrees. "Ma's got an album of his she found in the cut-out bin down at the record place."**

**Peg nods. "I think she plays it just to torture us when we tick her off."**

**Lisa's eyes go wide in horror. "Shhh! Don't say that too loud, or _our_ mom will get the same idea." She flops back on her bed and stares at the ceiling. "It's bad enough she watches the damn show every week."**

**As the LP starts to play, Josie pads back to her own bed, where Lacy has already staked her claim, sitting cross-legged with her back against the headboard.**

**"Scoot your ass over," she says, and Lacy makes room for her.**

**This leaves Peggy standing in the middle of the room, debating between the desk chair or the floor, until Lisa notices her dilemma and pats the edge of her bed.**

**"Sit here by me," she offers, and Peg is happy to oblige.**

**"So," she says after a brief period when no one else says anything, "I take it this bull session is about Brandon and what a prick he is."**

**"And then some," Lacy replies fiercely. "He owes me fifty bucks, an' the first time he rolls his happy, shot-up ass into Mace's, I'm gonna be there."**

**"Me, too," Josie says. "From what he told Ma, he'll be home by the end of August."**

**Hearing this, Lisa sits up quick. "No shit? Then count me in. I still owe him for that crap on my birthday."**

**"What happened on your birthday?" Peg wants to know, and Lisa tells her the whole story.**

**When she's done, Peg just stares at her. "Remind me never to piss you off," she says, and Lisa's cheeks flush hot.**

**"Y'all need to hush," she mutters, and the three older girls laugh.**

**She glares, but there is nothing mean in their teasing, and then she's laughing right along with them.**

* * *

**After the seven songs on Side One have been mostly ignored, Josie flips the record over to play the 17-minute title track, which takes up all of Side Two.**

**"Here we go," Lacy says, listening for the song's extended drum solo. When it finally comes, she goes into a frenzied air-drum riff, her hair whipping around her face as her entire body moves in perfect rhythm with the music.**

**The drum solo gradually fades into the final third of the song, leaving Lacy sweaty and exhilarated, and her small audience staring at her in awe-struck wonder.**

**Except Josie, who'd co-founded the _Lady Renegades_ with her back in 7th grade and has been trying to get her on the drumline ever since.**

**But Lacy, who'd been given a piccolo as a little girl and taught herself not to suck, has stayed loyal to her own, one-girl section.**

**"Play some Creedence," she tells Josie, who is browsing through a stack of albums now that Iron Butterfly has gone mercifully silent.**

**"Good choice," Josie says, and moments later the first notes of CCR's _Born on the Bayou_ fill the room.**

**"I love this song," Peg says, moving to the beat. "And I love your plan to bust Brandon for his shit with the money, but aren't y'all too young to get into Mace's?"**

**Lacy shrugs. "Legally, yeah. But Mace won't care so long as we ain't drinkin' booze."**

**"Mace is cool like that," Josie agrees. "I remember Lacy's ma usta send us to fetch Stuart home for dinner."**

**Lacy smiles at the memory. "Yeah, an' he never wanted to come, so I'd end up sittin' on his lap while he downed a couple more beers."**

**"Oh, sure," Lisa mutters, jutting out her lower lip. " _You_ got to sit on Stuart's lap, even though he's your _brother._ " She blows a strand of hair off her nose. "I'd give my left tit to wiggle my butt on Stuart's lap, not that _he'd_ ever notice."**

**"You don't have a left tit," Josie teases, earning her a middle-finger salute. "And since when do you have a thing for Stuart?"**

**"Since now, when Lacy said that part about sitting on his lap an' I got jealous."**

**Josie grins and ruffles her sister's hair. "Damn, Lise. You really _are_ a teenybopper slut."**

**"That's me," Lisa says proudly. "Now shut up an' let's play Spades."**

**So they do, and in the end Evelyn drives home alone.**


	22. Chapter 22

** Riley's First Letter To Lacy **

**_Dear Lacy,_ **

**_July 5, 1969_ **

**_This is all your fault, you know. Not that I'm here in Monterey, California about to have my life rigidly controlled by some sadistic asshole in a uniform – that's my own damn fault, not yours. But thanks to you, my first Army buddy had a really mistaken first impression of me._ **

**_His name is Eddie Carrera, we met on the bus and hit it off real quick, and now we're sharing a motel room 'til Monday._ **

**_(A room with two beds, Little Miss Smart-aleck. Don't make me spank you.)_ **

**_Anyway, Monday is when he plans to tell the rest of the guys in Basic all about my crazy-ass girlfriend and her taste in underwear._ **

**_He's already calling me 'Smiley Riley' and 'Twinkletoes,' thanks to the purple polish he busted me trying to get off my damn toenails._ **

**_He thought I was queer, but when I told him about you and what all we did on the pier, I think he got jealous._ **

**_Lacy, darlin', I hope you don't mind, I usually ain't the sort of gent to kiss-an'-tell like that, but I had to tell someone how special you are, and how special I felt being with you._ **

**_So don't be mad, okay?_ **

**_Hold on, Eddie's flapping his gums at me...And get this...The opportunistic bastard's been reading over my shoulder, he says he'll keep my secret from the squad in exchange for 'only' one carton of Lucky Strikes._ **

**_Every week._ **

**_Asshole._ **

**_Not you, him._ **

**_Then again, three bucks a week is a small price to pay for the memory of you on the pier, with your sexy wet top and your cute bare feet, and your hair all plastered to your face when you came up from underwater._ **

**_Add in the way you looked with your lip gloss smeared all to hell after we kissed each other stupid, and it's a wonder Eddie ain't calling me 'Twinkletoes Handjob' by now._ **

**_So now that I totally humbled myself before you, what's your nickname gonna be? Lacy Longlegs? Twinkletits?_ **

**_The possibilities are endless, but you need to come up with one all by yourself, like I did mine._ **

**_So tell me, how you been since we parted company the other night? How was the bonfire you told me about? I wanna hear all the gory details._ **

**_Me, I got nothing to add, the bus ride was okay, except for some of the dirty looks Eddie and me got when folks figured out where we were headed. (You woulda been pissed, seeing that, and I'd have loved to see you give 'em all a piece of your mind.)_ **

**_Tomorrow is my last day of freedom for a while, so I reckon I'll end this letter now and hit the sack early. Take care, Lacy, and think of me often, so I ain't the only one missing someone._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_Riley_ **

**_P.S. - Eddie's been sharing marching cadences with me that he learned from his older brother, who's already finished his tour in 'Nam. Here's the first one:_ **

**" _Ho Chi Minh is a son-of-a-bitch, he's got the blue-ball crabs and the seven-year itch."_**

**_Most girls would faint if some guy wrote that in a letter. I'm glad you ain't like most girls._ **

**_P.S. 2 – Write soon, okay? I'll be mailing this from the base as soon as they give us the return address you'll need to use._ **

**_P.S. 3 – I do miss you._ **


	23. Chapter 23

** Not Dead, Just Wet  **

** _Monday, July 7, 1969 – 10am._ **

**Mabel and Mavis Lane, Rebel Creek's resident spinsters, are out for their daily walk when Mavis stops dead in her tracks.**

**"Lord almighty, Mabel, lookit that girl just lyin' there on Evvie Wilson's front lawn, still as a statue. You reckon she's dead?"**

**"She ain't dead, just wet from that sprinkler. An' if I know Lacy, she'll leave this world the same way she came into it, bloody and screaming. And draggin' a few others with her."**

**" _That's_ Lacy? The one who turned her mama into a hippie? But I heard she chopped off all her hair over some no-account boy."**

**Mabel shakes her head. "Nuh-uh. That was Peggy. Back in 5th grade, it was Lacy who wrote a story pretending to be Rapunzel."**

**"Wasn't pretendin'," Lacy calls out from under the curtain of blonde hair plastered across most of her face, and the two elderly ladies almost faint dead away.**

**Mabel recovers first. "Well, hey there, Lacy Ann. Didn't know you were awake." She grins. "Tell Mavis here how that story of yours ended."**

**Lacy sits up, holding on to her untied white bikini top to keep from showing any more of herself than Mabel and Mavis would care to see.**

**"Well, in my version the prince rescues Rapunzel _before_ the stupid witch cuts off her braid, they leave her trapped in the tower, and they ride off on the prince's horse to live happily ever after."**

**"Tell about the witch. That was the best part," Mabel implores her, and Lacy wonders at the bloodthirsty gleam in the old woman's eyes.**

**"I was getting to that part, but first I had Rapunzel unloose her hair from that long-ass braid, 'cause of how easy it almost _coulda_ been for Dame Gothel to snip it off." She pauses as the sprinkler oscillates over her again, then finishes her tale. "So anyway, as Rapunzel and her prince reach his kingdom, there's a super-loud explosion behind them, followed by a mushroom cloud, an' they find out later that a Russian missile got launched by accident and took out the tower with the witch still inside. The End."**

**Mabel claps, but Mavis looks slightly horrified.**

**"Very _creative,_ " she says, not meaning it in a good way, then scowls at her sister. "We should get on with our walk, Mabel. We don't want to miss _Search for Tomorrow,_ now do we?"**

**"No, I reckon not," Mabel agrees, giving Lacy a sly wink. "Miss Wilson, please say hi to your mother for me, and tell her she'd best bring her A-game this coming Saturday."**

**"I sure will. And Miss Mavis, it was good to see you again."**

**"Thank you, child," the woman says, sincerely enough. "I feel the same, and I'm glad it wasn't you who cut off all that beautiful hair."**

**"You an' me both," Lacy says fervently, flashing a crooked grin. "Maybe I'll dedicate my next Rapunzel story to you."**

**"You do that," Mavis replies, her own grin just as lopsided. "Just don't expect me to read it."**

**Then they are on their way again, leaving Lacy alone. She tosses her bikini top aside and lays out on her stomach with her hair fanned out on the wet grass, letting the cold water and hot sun do with her what they will.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Lacy's Second Letter To Riley**

**_Monday, July 7, 1969 – 7:30pm._ **

**With _Gunsmoke_ over and time to kill before Johnny Cash comes on, Lacy takes a quick shower, throws on the Rolling Stones tee as a nightshirt, and – with Ma and Peg still at the cafe – fixes herself a couple of grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches.**

**Then, careful to keep her damp hair off the paper, she plops back down in front of the TV to write Riley another letter.**

* * *

**_Dear Riley,_ **

**_July 7, 1969_ **

**_Hello again. I hope you're doing okay, and after all that drama in my first letter I hope you haven't gave up on me yet._ **

**_Or like it says in Grandpa's favorite cowboy movie song, 'Do not forsake me, oh my darlin'.'_ **

**_Or stomp on my blue suede shoes neither, if I ever have any, which we both know ain't likely, so never mind._ **

**" _Stop babbling, Lacy Ann, and tell Riley about what you wore layin' out under the sprinkler all afternoon."_**

**" _Okay, fine. I need to get this stupid song outta my head anyway, so I might as well share it with him, too."_**

**_Our heroine stops talking to herself and starts to sing:_ **

**" _One two three four, tell your boyfriend what you wore/It was an itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie, soakin' wet, brand-new bikini, that I wore for the first time today."_**

**_Except it was white, not yellow with polka dots on it (they'd hafta shoot me first), and unlike that scaredy-cat girl in the real song, I ain't afraid to wear the skimpy thing._ **

**_Right now the bikini is tumblin' around in the dryer, an' tomorrow I'm gonna tie-dye it, an' then someday I'll get to model it for you._ **

**_God, I can't wait._ **

**_Anyway, Pvt. Tucker, sir, here's what you been missing these past couple days:_ **

**_Poor Mavis Lane saw me layin' there on our front lawn and thought I was dead. Her sister Mabel, who knows me too well, said I was too ornery to go peaceful like that, then mentioned the Rapunzel story I wrote back in 5th grade, which ended with a Russian nuke taking out the evil witch._ **

**_A little after that, two older boys from school drove by and honked their horn at me. One was like 'Be still my heart,' an' his buddy was like 'Be still my dick,' and they sped off laughing._ **

**_I helped out at the cafe yesterday, we always get a good crowd after church lets out...It was boring as hell after the lunch rush, 'til some trucker passin' through put his hand up Ma's skirt an' she dumped a pitcher of sweet tea in his lap._ **

**_Ma has all the fun, I swear._ **

**_This guy Speedy, who's been a regular since before Noah built the ark, told her she shoulda let the poor guy work on his technique bit longer, an' Ma blushed red as a beet._ **

**" _There was nothing wrong with the man's technique," she told me when we were back in the kitchen and no one could hear._**

**" _Why'd you douse his crotch, then?"_**

**" _Because a gentleman always asks a lady before playing her piano."_**

**_Man, I love that line. And I reckon maybe it explains why I never made you ask when you played mine that time on the pier._ **

**_But the worst thing that happened, and I hate tellin' you this part, is that Josie's brother Brandon got crippled in 'Nam. Then we found out what a douche he was before he left, an' now all I wanna do is slap his face._ **

**_I'm such a cruel little thing, ain't I?_ **

**_Don't answer that._ **

**_So there you have it, the life and times of Lacy Ann Wilson. I love sharing it with you, an' I hope you like hearing my BS. Please write soon so I can hear some of yours._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_Lacy_ **

**_PS – Grandpa's supposed to drop my truck off Saturday, even though I'm technically not allowed to drive it 'til I get my license._ **

**_PS II – Have you heard of Linda Ronstadt, the new girl singer who was on Johnny Cash last month? She sounds really good._ **

**_PS III – Speaking of Johnny Cash, his show's coming on soon, then 'The Outcasts' after the news, so I'll end this letter for now...Take care, okay? Be good an' be safe._ **

**_PS IV – And be happy._ **

* * *

**Later that evening Peggy knocks on Lacy's bedroom door.**

**"Lace, you okay in there?"**

**"I'm fine, Peg," Lacy replies, sounding a bit breathless.**

**"Why's the door locked?"**

**"I been practicin' my technique."**

**Aware that what Lacy calls 'Unofficial Band Camp' starts in just over a month, Peg assumes her sister is referring to her piccolo and doesn't question her further.**

**"Oh, okay. But when you're done, how 'bout hanging out in my room tonight? I'm bored."**

**"An' I'm thirsty. Got any Schnapps?"**

**"Probably not 'til Friday when Ma pays us. But there's a few Lone Stars in the fridge."**

**"Not anymore, there ain't." Lacy pauses, apparently thinking it over, then asks, "Do I at least get to pick out the songs?"**

**"Sure."**

**"I'll be right there."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Lyrics for "Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin'" written by Ned Washington. Lyrics for "Itsy Bitsy Teenyie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini" written by Paul Vance & Lee Pockriss.


	25. Chapter 25

**No Booze, No Bras, No Problem **

**_Tuesday, July 8, 1969 – 12:20am._ **

**"Nice tan," Peggy greets her, eyeing Lacy's bare, sun-browned legs poking out from under the Stones tee. "And I like that shade of polish on your toes."**

**"Frosted Peach," Lacy says, looking down at her pastel toenails. "It's one I never tried before."**

**"Frosted, huh? Where'd you find that?"**

**"Down at the Rexall where Josie works, they just got a buncha new flavors in."**

**Peggy arches a brow at her. "Flavors?"**

**Lacy glares. "You know what I meant, so hush. What kind you been lookin' for?"**

**"I'm not sure. Maybe a nice pale lavender."**

**"Seriously, Peg? That's just purple without the attitude."**

**Peggy grins. "Maybe so, but you got enough attitude for both of us. And you an' Josie together are so bad-ass it's scary."**

**"We try," Lacy says, returning Peg's grin. "I should call her an' invite her butt over."**

**"I already did. She's on her way."**

**Lacy's delight is obvious as she wraps Peggy in an impulsive hug, then pulls back in surprise.**

**"Nothin' but skin under that shirt, huh, sis? Who you tryin' to impress, me or Joce?"**

**"Not you," Peggy shoots back, "and not Josie, either. The only tits I see in this room that _she_ cares about ain't the ones I got."**

**Lacy feels herself blush, but doesn't dispute the truth of Peg's comment. Instead she changes the subject.**

**"Yeah, whatever. Does Joce at least know this jam session you invited her to is alcohol-free?"**

**"She does now," Josie says as she saunters into Peggy's room, her feet bare and wearing a cropped white tee and black-and-maroon gym shorts that were too small on her even in 8th grade.**

**She gives Peg an affectionate hug, then pulls Lacy into a tight, hard embrace that leaves both girls almost wishing they were alone.**

**"I missed you today," Josie whispers, her fingers tangled in Lacy's already-tousled hair.**

**"Y'all need to get a room," Peggy tells them, and Lacy and Josie reluctantly move apart.**

**_Someday we will,_ Josie thinks, even as Lacy's green eyes lock on hers and something unspoken but fierce passes between them.**

**Peggy, again struck by the strength of their bond, feels a sharp stab of envy.**

**"I wish I had what you guys have," she blurts out, and Josie arches a brow at her.**

**"You did, once. You an' Lace had it." Her eyes narrow. "Then you fucked it up."**

**Lacy starts to protest, but Josie presses a gentle finger against her friend's parted lips to shush her.**

**"Shh. I'm only sayin' what you won't, 'cause I want you an' Peg back the way you were. An' that ain't happening 'til she forgives Stuart for goin' to Canada." She looks from Lacy to Peg. "I want my honorary big sister back."**

**"I _have_ forgiven him," Peg says, her eyes suddenly blurred. "Hell, most of that crap I was always spoutin' came from Brody's hateful mouth before it came out of mine."**

**Lacy glares at her. "Brody? What was _he_ bent outta shape about? His ass didn't get drafted."**

**"He was pissed 'cause Brandon's did, like why should his buddy have to go fight while Stuart was off in Alberta screwing all the Canuck girls."**

**"What a dickhead," Josie declares, sharing another look with Lacy, and in that moment Peg decides she wouldn't want to be in Brody Aiken's scuffed boots when those two track him down.**

**"What made you change your mind about Stuart?" Lacy asks, placing a hand on her sister's arm.**

**"You did, I reckon. Seeing the way you always have his back, how you fight for him when he ain't around to fight for himself." She touches her nose. "Even against me."**

**"You had that comin'," Lacy says, softening her words with a small smile. "But I love you anyway."**

**"So do I," Josie adds, and the three girls fall into each other's arms.**

* * *

**And so it is that sometime later, after a late-night pee run, Evelyn finds herself passing Peg's room on the way back to her own. She hears _Three Bling Mice_ playing on the phonograph, and three lusty girl voices – one for each mouse - singing along, but _their_ version stops her in her barefoot tracks:**

**_Three dumb shits, three dumb shits_ **

**_See how they run, see how they run_ **

**_They all ran after the principal's wife, she cut off their balls with a carving knife, now they all live a celibate life, three dumb shits._ **

**Evelyn taps on the door and opens it.**

**"I like your words better, but who are the three dumb shits?"**

**They all answer at once, one target per girl:**

**"Dewey!"**

**"Brandon!"**

**"Brody!"**

**"How 'bout all of the above?" Evelyn asks, looking around for – and not seeing – Peg's usual bottle of Schnapps. "No Spearmint tonight?"**

**"We ran out the other night," Peg says with a shrug. "Got no extra cash 'til Friday."**

**"Well," Evelyn appears to think it over, "I suppose I could scrounge up something from the liquor cabinet."**

**Three faces brighten, but she holds up a hand.**

**"On two conditions."**

**Lacy gives her mother a wary look. "Like what, Ma?"**

**"Y'all let me join you, and I get to add a fourth name to your song."**

**Then, leaving Peg's door ajar, she heads for the living room and Bob's stash of booze she's barely touched the whole time he's been gone.**

_**In her mind she is already formulating a verse, just for him.** _


	26. Chapter 26

**Everybody's Famous In A Small Town **

**_Tuesday, July 8, 1969 –_ 1:15pm. **

**With the dryer on its highest setting to bake her newly tie-dyed bikini into submission, Lacy pours herself a glass of cold Hawaiian Punch and settles down at the kitchen table to add to her most recent letter to Riley.**

* * *

**_PS Whatever – Okay, so I ain't got much to say here, for sure not enough for a whole new letter, and I'm too ornery to go check what PS I left off at, so deal with it._ **

**_My usta-be all-white bikini now has pretty red, yellow, an' blue swirlies all over it, and the front porch mostly didn't get too trashed, so I'm actually sorta proud of myself. But get this...Josie an' me hung out all night in Peg's room, all three of us barefooted, braless, an' sober._ **

**_Even Peg, which ain't like her to be all three at once._ **

**_Then Ma brought vodka and joined us, an' it all went south in a hurry._ **

**_We sorta rewrote 'Three Blind Mice,' but trust me on this, our version ain't no nursery rhyme for little kids._**

**_Not even close._ **

**_Here's what we wrote, hope you like it:_ **

**_Three dumb shits, three dumb shits/See how they run, see how they run/They all ran after the principal's wife, she cut off their balls with a carving knife, now they all live a celibate life/Three dumb shits_ **

**_Three dumb shits, three dumb shits/See how they whine, see how they whine/They sit at the bar and cry in their beers, while everyone else just whispers and jeers, they bawl like a trio of castrated steers/Three dumb shits_ **

**_Three dumb shits, three dumb shits/See how they act, see how they act/They strut around town like they own the joint, totally clueless but that ain't the point, lookin' for someone, some fool to anoint/Three dumb shits_ **

**_Three dumb shits and one blind pig/See how they are, see how they are/They swam to Tokyo trolling for sluts, but a Samurai warrior sliced out their guts, now they just lie there minus their nuts/Have you ever seen such a sight in your life, as four dead shits?_ **

**_So what do you think? Are we on our way to fame an' fortune, or headed for the nearest loony bin?_ **

**_Probably both, I reckon, what with some newspaper guy stoppin' by the cafe later to do a story, but whatever. I'll tell you how it goes in my next real letter, right now Peg just walked in lookin' all pissy at me like 'Why ain't you in the truck yet?'_ **

**_Sisters, I swear._ **

**_Love 'til later, and take care!_ **

**_Lacy_ **

* * *

**As Peggy enters the kitchen to find Lacy diligently writing in her notebook, she is totally unaware of the stormy look on her face – which, truth be told, has nothing to do with her sister and everything to do with the nail she just chipped changing out the oil on her pickup.**

**"You clean up well," she says, her annoyance fading when she notices the cute little sundress and matching white sandals Lacy has on.**

**Lacy looks up, her hair half-hiding her narrowed eyes.**

**"Ma said to look nice in case the reporter wants a picture." She shrugs. "This is the only dress I got that still fits me."**

**Peg grins. "You mean it's the only one that doesn't even hit mid-thigh on you."**

**"That too," Lacy says, her own grin radiant. "An' you need to check out my toes."**

**"How come?" Peg looks down at Lacy's feet and frowns. "What're those black marks?"**

**"Letters." Lacy stands up, holding her feet close together, and then Peg sees it, _'Lubbock A-J'_ spelled out across all ten of her sister's toes.**

**"Girl, I like the defiance, but how'd you get the polish on those little bitty toenails?"**

**"Toothpick. Josie showed me how one time."**

**The phone rings, and Lacy answers it.**

**"Hello?"**

**"Hey, kiddo, it's me."**

**"Grandpa! How you been, an' why ain't you here? The _Gazette_ is doin' a story on us down at the cafe, I bet they'd love to interview a wise old geezer like you."**

**Grandpa laughs. "Evvie called me about that, she said the same thing you just did but without the sobriquet."**

**"You should drive down an' meet us there. I could use the moral support."**

**"You got it, Hawkeye's already waitin' on me in the car. But what's this moral support crap? You ain't scared of a little fame, are you?"**

**Now it's Lacy's turn to laugh. "You know me better than that. It's just, I dunno, I keep thinkin' about what Granny usta say all the time, how everybody in a small town is born famous and dies famous, but what we do in between is what God measures us by."**

**"Yeah, she liked that one, used it on me more times than I care to admit, but what's got _your_ knickers all in a bunch?"**

**Lacy pauses before answering, wanting him to understand. "Here's the way I see it, Grandpa. God I can deal with 'cause he knows what's in my heart, but the last thing I need is some asshole reporter givin' the folks here in Rebel Creek a different cup to measure me by."**

**"He can't unless you let him, and besides, them folks down there couldn't measure gold dust with a dinosaur's hind leg."**

**"Grandpa! I don't even know what that means."**

**"Me neither, Lacy Ann. But I reckon I just put a smile on your face, didn't I?"**

**"You sure did."**

**"Good. Now what say we both get a move on so we can show that newspaper fella what a wise old geezer and his wise young granddaughter can do."**

* * *

**Ten minutes later Lacy joins her sister in the El Camino, toes off her sandals, and puts her bare feet on the dash – a habit Peggy has long since learned to ignore, or at least tolerate.**

**"That didn't take long," she says, starting the engine.**

**"My sandals, or my talk with Grandpa?"**

**"Both, but I was referring to the sandals."**

**Lacy shrugs. "I promised Ma I'd wear 'em. Never said how long."**

**Peg laughs. "I like your logic."**

**Lacy gives her a sideways look. "You didn't used to."**

**"Not always, but mostly I was just being stubborn."**

**After tuning the radio to the local country station, Peg backs out of the driveway and they ride in amicable silence until Lacy breaks it.**

**"Peg, how come we wasted so much time bein' mad at each other?"**

**"Because one of us, and I don't mean you, was a jealous, angry bitch."**

**"Like I wasn't?" Lacy shoots back, the raw self-loathing in Peggy's voice making her wish she'd kept her fat mouth shut.**

**"Not at first. You thought I hung the moon, at least 'til all that stuff came out about Daddy's tryst in Tokyo."**

**"You took his side, you an' Stuart both, an' I took up for Ma." Her fists clench at the memory. "And Daddy just acted like nothing was his fault."**

**"He can be clueless," Peg admits, keeping one hand on the wheel as she shakes a cigarette up from her pack, extracts it with her lips, and lights it. "But he's still our father."**

**"Ain't denyin' that." Lacy rolls down her window and lets the wind whip her hair, then looks over at Peg. "Look, sis, I don't wannna argue, okay? I'm sorry I said anything."**

**"Don't be. I guess there's still some crap we need to clear the air on."**

**"No shit," Lacy tells her, glaring at Peg's cigarette. "Those things reek."**


	27. Chapter 27

**The Reporter And The Barefoot Rebel Girl **

**_Tuesday, July 8, 1969 – 2pm._ **

**At twenty-two and just weeks after getting his journalism degree, Mark Tammerly still can't believe he has a real newspaper column, even if the newspaper in question has a total readership smaller than the population of some small countries.**

**But hell, even Mike Royko had to start somewhere, so why not him?**

**Thus motivated, Mark pushes aside his iced coffee and empty cobbler plate, takes a small notebook and a fancy pen from his shirt pocket, and begins to write the first draft of tomorrow's column:**

**_Musings From Rebel Creek_ **

**_by Mark Tammerly_ **

**_Fair warning, dear readers, the column you are about to read is not the column I originally set out to write._ **

**_That column, as directed by my editor, was to involve finding and describing the five top tourist attractions in Rebel Creek, a task I happily accepted._ **

**_There was only one problem._ **

**_Rebel Creek doesn't have five tourist attractions, which I discovered during my first-ever walk around town._ **

**_Or even tourists, as one long-time regular here at Evvie's Place – an elderly gent everyone calls Speedy – was quick to point out._ **

**" _You oughtta just write about this here cafe," he told me, and despite my initial skepticism, I soon realized he was right._**

**_So what changed my mind, you ask?_ **

**_I fell in love._ **

**_Oh, not with a sweetheart, as one might expect, but with a place, this place, and I've yet to meet two of the three lovely ladies who draw their livelihood from it._ **

**"Call me Lacy," a girl's voice says, so close he can feel her breath on his ear. "Callin' me a lady won't get you an extra piece of Ma's cherry cobbler."**

**The girl slides into the booth next to Mark, none-too-gently nudging him with her hip to scoot him over.**

**Then she reaches out and snatches the pen right out of his hand.**

**"Cool pen. What kind is it?"**

**"It's a Cross."**

**"Maybe where you come from," Lacy teases. "Here in West Texas we still call it a pen."**

**"Very funny," Mark mutters, grinning in spite of himself.**

**She leans in to read his notes again, the Irish Spring-and-strawberries scent of her intoxicating him even as her wind-blown blonde hair brushes softly over his left forearm.**

**" _I'd_ be your sweetheart," she says finally, "'cept there's already Riley, an' Grandpa's friend Hawkeye, who's too old for me anyway, an' I ain't that kinda girl no matter _what_ folks say."**

**Lacy shifts in the booth to face him, drawing her knees up to her chin and resting both bare feet firmly against his thigh.**

**_Okay,_ Mark thinks, trying not to stare at how much leg her current pose is showing him, _this is a first even for me._**

**"Read my toes," she says, wiggling them to get his attention where it belongs.**

**He gazes down at her warm, naked feet, not quite sure what she wants him to see.**

**"What am I missing here?" he asks, feeling a bit disconcerted.**

**"Look closer." Her grin at his expense is wicked. "They won't bite."**

**"Said the spider to the fly," Mark mutters, and Lacy curls her toes into the faded black denim of his jeans.**

**"Read my damn toes, or so help me I'm gonna kiss you right here in front of God an' everybody."**

**He almost calls her bluff, but her earlier words – _I ain't that kinda girl –_ stop him. So instead he squints down at her feet and tries to decipher the tiny black marks decorating her nails.**

**"Lubbo?"**

**"Yeah, Lubbo. Now read the other ones."**

**But Lacy's second five toes – marked _ckA-J_ – baffle him, and his raised eyebrow elicits an indulgent smile from her.**

**"Line 'em up together," she suggests, so he does.**

**"Holy shit!"**

**The oath is out of his mouth before he can stop it, and Lacy looks at him with feigned innocence and a raised eyebrow of her own.**

**"What'd _I_ do?"**

**"Well, first off, you do realize I write for the _Gazette,_ right? Not the damn _Avalanche-Journal._ "**

**"Course I do," she retorts, her feet still resting comfortably on his upper leg. "Your uncle hired you."**

**"How'd you know he's my uncle?"**

**"'Cause this is Rebel Creek. We know all kinds of shit."**

**Now he's curious. "Like what, may I ask?"**

**"Like that you graduated in the top third of your class at Medill, you have a sister my age who's gonna be a junior this year like me, and you don't wear socks with your loafers."**

**Mark grins at her. "Okay, I'm impressed by your vast store of knowledge," - here Lacy rolls her eyes - "but why'd you paint your toenails with the name of my competion?"**

**She shrugs. "Not sure. Mainly 'cause I was bein' a brat over Ma tellin' me to wear sandals."**

**"So much for that," he says, gently wiggling one of her toes. "But something tells me there was more to your gesture than just your mom's footwear edict."**

**Lacy scoffs in mock disgust. "There you go again, talkin' all fancy like a city boy. But if you really must know, Mark Tammerly, the other reason I did my nails this way wasn't to tick _you_ off, it was to fuck with the guy I _thought_ they'd send, the fat, bald one slobberin' all over his smelly-ass cigar."**

**"That would be my uncle," Mark says, delighted by the happy giggle this earns him. "But hey, sorry to disappoint you."**

**Her smile is warm and friendly. "You didn't, trust me. An' if you want me to fetch my sandals from Peg's truck for a picture, I'll do it."**

**"Don't you dare," he says with an answering smile, right before they both hear shouting from the kitchen and Lacy gives him a tense, apologetic look.**

**"Don't go nowhere," she tells him, then she's out of the booth and gone, and in that moment Mark feels as if, for better or worse, he has just made his first real friend in Rebel Creek.**

**_She might need help,_ he thinks, and it is this, more than anything, that leads him to disregard her order to stay put.**


	28. Chapter 28

** That Bowers Woman **

** _Tuesday, July 8, 1969 – 2:30pm._ **

**As Mark enters the cafe's spacious kitchen close on Lacy's heels, a girl enters via the back door, a girl with shaggy red hair, skimpy black shorts and an even-skimpier white bikini top, and lime-green polish on her bare toes.**

**He almost doesn't recognize her.**

**"Quit droolin'," Lacy says, giving him a mock glare. "An' remember, it wasn't Josie who just spent the last half-hour cozied up to you in a booth with her naked feet in your lap."**

**"No ma'am, it sure wasn't," Mark replies, more than a little amused by the jealousy in her tone.**

**Then he sees who Evvie Wilson is facing off with, a woman he has met on several occasions and liked less each time.**

**Adelaide Bowers.**

**AKA 'That Bowers Woman.'**

**AKA 'Addled Addy.'**

**He'd bristled at Uncle Lou's casual use of that alliterative moniker to describe her, until the day she marched into the newspaper office and demanded they print a story about her long-dead husband having been abducted by aliens.**

**A week later she was back, this time claiming her neighbor's cats were hatching a plot to take over the world.**

**_Addled, hell. The woman is five beers short of a six-pack._ **

**Looking at her now, with her slept-in clothes and ratty gray hair, Mark remembers the song he'd heard while driving to work that morning.**

**" _Flowers on the Wall,_ " he mutters, and next to him Lacy tries to stifle her giggle, but it's too late.**

**Adelaide has heard them, and turns her wrath on Lacy.**

**"You lack-witted little tramp! It's all your goddamn fault my boy has a bump on his head the size of Mt. Rushmore, an' it ain't no wonder he ended shit with you."**

**"He didn't end it, Adelaide. I did."**

**"Why would you do a fool thing like that?"**

**"'Cause I'd never _been_ a lack-wit or a tramp before, not all at once anyways, but bein' with Dewey made me feel like both." She shrugs. "Then he called my brother a pussy, an' I told him he couldn't play with mine no more."**

**_I gotta remember that line,_ Mark thinks, even as Adelaide crosses her arms over her chest and sneers at Lacy.**

**"That ain't the way he tells it."**

**"Course it ain't," Lacy retorts, her temper inching up a notch. "Your son'd rather talk trash than talk sense."**

**"Sorta like his mama," a new voice chimes in, and from the resemblance Mark decides the girl now standing next to Evelyn must be Lacy's sister Peggy.**

**"That's Peg," Lacy says, confirming his guess as she takes his hand in hers. "C'mon, I'll introduce you."**

**As they pass Adelaide the woman hooks her talon-like fingers around Lacy's arm to stop her.**

**"Well, girlie, it sure didn't take you long to find some other gent to spread them legs for."**

**Dead silence greets this, and the look that darkens Lacy's green eyes in that moment would, if it was ever aimed at him, send Mark in search of a hole to hide in.**

**Then she smiles, and something in that smile makes Adelaide let go of her arm and take an involuntary step back.**

**"Addy Bowers, I should slap you silly for sayin' that, an' callin' me a lack-wit besides, but Ma always taught us to be kind to animals and old people."**

**"I ain't _that_ old," Adelaide says indignantly, and now it is Josie who offers her an icy smile.**

**"Guess that leaves only one other option for you, huh, Adelaide?"**

**She positions herself on Lacy's other side and grins at Mark.**

**"Out slummin', Tammerly? Or is my best friend seducin' you with cherry cobbler and her super-friendly waitressing skills?"**

**"You have no idea," Mark says, matching her grin with one of his own.**

**"He's doin' a story on the cafe," Lacy adds as she gives his hand an affectionate squeeze.**

**She looks around for Ma and Peg, still wanting to introduce her sister to Mark, but they've deserted the fray in favor of cooking for and serving a mid-afternoon rush of new customers. And Adelaide is annoyed at suddenly finding herself ignored.**

**"Lacy Ann Wilson, I ain't done with you! You're lucky Dewey didn't have your butt thrown in jail. And you," - she pokes a finger into Mark's chest - "how can you write about _this_ goddamn dive instead of followin' up on the stories I brung you?"**

**"Because, Adelaide, the shit you brung us belongs in the _Enquirer,_ not in the _Gazette._ "**

**Next to him, Lacy starts whistling the Statler Brothers tune he'd mentioned earlier.**

**"Lacy, be nice," Evelyn calls out from over by the griddle, trying to hide a smile. And now, with Adelaide so close that Mark can smell the gin on her breath, he sees what she'd almost hidden under a heavy layer of mascara.**

**"Nice shiner, Adelaide. Who gave it to you?"**

**Adelaide looks ready to cry. "It ain't what you think! Dewey's the only man in my life now, an' sometimes he-"**

**She cuts herself off, too late, as Evelyn joins them.**

**"Sometimes what, Addy?" she asks gently, all her animosity gone. "What does he do?"**

**Adelaide looks down at her pink Converse All-Stars, her voice barely a whisper. "He don't wake up so peaceful, some days." She lifts her gaze to Lacy. " _You_ know, Lacy. You know how my boy gets in the mornings."**

**Lacy shrugs. "Never stayed the whole night, so actually I _don't_ know. But yeah, the one time I tried to wake him, he started cussin' me in his sleep an' swingin' his arms, an' then his hand smacked me right on my left tit."**

**She pauses for effect, and to Mark's surprise it is Adelaide herself who takes the bait.**

**"So what happened then? Did he wake up?"**

**"Not hardly, but _both_ my tits got all excited, hopin' he'd do it again."**

**"Did he?" Mark asks, unable to help himself, and Lacy rewards him with a small smile.**

**"I wasn't that lucky, so after a while of amusing myself I got dressed and left."**

**Mark chuckles to himself, wondering if either Evelyn or Addy suspect what Lacy meant by 'amusing' herself.**

**He doesn't think so, but from the smoky look in Josie's eyes, _she_ knows.**

**Their gazes lock, then Josie blushes and looks down at her neon toenails.**

**_Well, hell. What's up with her?_ **

**Josie looks up right then, those green eyes – so much like Lacy's – narrowed and glittering.**

**Then she sticks her tongue out at him.**


	29. Chapter 29

** Old Soldiers And New Friends  **

** _Tuesday, July 8, 1969 – 4:00pm._ **

**"You should call it _Musings From Mark_ or something," Lacy suggests, her hair half in her face as she gives his notes another once-over. "Folks here already know they're in Rebel Creek."**

**"'Cept for Addy, bless her heart," Josie says, and she and Lacy fist-bump each other inches from Mark's nose.**

**With Adelaide finally gone and Grandpa and Hawkeye having joined the party, Mark finds himself in the same booth as before, with Lacy close beside him as he writes. This time, however, Josie's on his other side and both girls have their bare feet on the floor where they belong.**

**Which, given the steely look he's just gotten from the retired Army colonel across the table from him, is probably just as well.**

**"They both have a point," Hawkeye says, grinning at Mark. "And don't let this old dog next to me scare you. His bark is worse than his bite."**

**"For sure," Lacy concurs, nudging Mark's foot with hers under the table.**

**Mark clears his throat. "Before we begin, gentlemen – and ladies – I must give you fair warning. Not everything you say to me will actually make it into my column."**

**"How come?" Lacy asks, narrowing her eyes at him.**

**"Because unfortunately my uncle won't give me an unlimited word count."**

**"There shouldn't be _any_ word count," Lacy declares, the budding writer in her chafing at the very thought. Then she notices Josie's grin. "What?"**

**"Oh, nothing. I'm just impressed, is all."**

**"'Bout what?"**

**"Somebody referred to you as a lady an' you didn't get all pissy about it."**

**Lacy shrugs. "Hey, he called you one, too, so at least I'm in good company."**

**The two girls share a look so intense Mark almost feels it in his gut.**

**_No one will ever come between these two,_ he thinks. _Not even me._**

**That last part brings him up short, he's too old for either of them, let alone both, and Lacy made it clear she's not in the running anyway.**

**_But still._ **

**"Colonel, we should teach Lacy to fish," Hawkeye says, derailing Mark's train of thought before he can get a handle on it.**

**"I already know how to fish," Lacy informs him. "There's just better ways to waste my time."**

**Hawkeye grabs his chest in mock distress. "Blasphemy! How can a granddchild of Sherman T. Potter not like to fish?"**

**"Peggy don't fish, neither," Lacy says, "so if y'all want a threesome for fishin' don't look at us."**

**_Don't say threesome,_ Mark thinks as the word puts unwanted thoughts back into his head, and he feels himself turning red.**

**No one but Josie seems to notice his reaction, but her impish smile and the way she presses her bare thigh more firmly against his denim-clad one has him in sudden need of a cold shower.**

* * *

**By 6:30pm., Mark's notebook is full and all that's left is to get some decent photos to go with all the words.**

**"Come out back with me," he says to the two girls. "I wanna show you something in my backseat."**

**"I bet you do," Josie says. "But I don't do that sorta thing on the first date."**

**"Since when?" Lacy cuts in. "An' besides, this ain't a date."**

**Josie appears to think it over, then nods. "Okay, then. I suppose a quick romp wouldn't hurt."**

**"An' I get to watch," Lacy declares, adding to Mark's mortification.**

**"Girls, don't tease the reporter," Evelyn admonishes, setting a fresh pitcher of cold lemonade on the table. "He has a job to do."**

**"Actually, ma'am, I'm almost done. Just need to get my notes typed up and shoot a few pictures to spice things up." He grins at Josie. "But thanks for the offer."**

* * *

**Evelyn accompanies them out to Mark's car, a midnight-blue '68 Dodge Charger that immediately has Lacy and Josie gaping at him.**

**" _This_ is your car?" Lacy can't believe it. "Oh, man."**

**Josie elbows her in the side. "Don't be greedy, Wilson. Your gramps just bought you a pretty purple pickup for your birthday, so put that tongue of yours back in your mouth."**

**Her words remind Lacy of Riley and all the fun places he'd put _his_ tongue, and she feels that all-too-familiar rush of heat in her belly.**

**"Leave my tongue out of this," she mutters. "An' look who's talkin', with her pretty white Camaro sittin' right over there."**

**"My pretty _boring_ Camaro, you mean. I hate white on a car."**

**"Why'd you buy it, then?"**

**"You _know_ why," Josie retorts. "'Cause white's easier to paint over."**

**"Oh, stop your fussing, both of you," Evelyn scolds. "We need to help Mark here get the tools of his trade inside the cafe before it rains."**

**Lacy's hands go to her hips. "Ma, there ain't a cloud in the sky."**

**"Well, there oughtta be. Now come on and let's get this done."**

**So they do. Mark carries his portable typewriter, Josie and Lacy carry his Polaroid instant camera and tripod respectively, and Evelyn, not to be outdone, brings along an unopened box of Southworth typing paper.**

**Lacy gives her a look. "Seriously, Ma? You came all the way out here just to carry _that?_ "**

**"Of course not, silly. I came out here to get a closer look at that gorgeous vehicle gracing our parking lot."**

**And with that, Evelyn turns on her bare heel and heads back toward the cafe.**

* * *

**Mark ends up shooting two packs of film, twenty photos in all, but only four make the cut for inclusion with the column:**

**_Lacy, Evelyn, and Peg in front of the cafe, with even Peg barefooted. Evelyn's green sundress is almost as short as Lacy's white one, while Peg is braless in jean shorts and a yellow tank top._ **

**_Grandpa and Hawkeye standing in the same spot, dressed casually and wearing shoes, each man with a flask in his hand._ **

**_Mark in the booth with Lacy and Josie snugged up on either side of him._ **

**_And finally, Lacy and Josie out back, posing seductively with Mark's Charger._ **

**Back in the booth now, Lacy and Josie pore over the remaining sixteen pictures while Mark looks on.**

**"Take your pick," he tells them. "Those are mostly duplicates of the ones that'll run with the column."**

**"I want one of Joce an' me with your car," Lacy says, and Josie nods in agreement.**

**"Me, too."**

**"I like that one a lot," Mark admits. "The car show girls couldn't have done it any better."**

**"Car show girls?" Lacy asks, arching her brows.**

**Mark nods. "Yeah. Scantily-clad girls who prance around at the Auto Show pretending like they know shit about cars."**

**"We could do that," Lacy says, grinning at Josie.**

**"For sure," the other girl agrees. "Ma knows a guy who works for the Dallas one every year, maybe he could get us in the door."**

**Mark shakes his head. "I think you have to be eighteen. And at a big show like that they make you wear heels."**

**Both girls look horrified, but it is Lacy who replies.**

**"You couldn't pay me to wear those things. My poor toes'd never forgive me."**

**"They _would_ be paying you," Mark says helpfully, and Lacy glares at him.**

**"Not for long. Those heels'd get tossed in the nearest trash can, an' when my boss came to fire my half-naked ass he'd find me prancin' around barefooted."**

**"You an' me both," Josie says, then looks at her watch. "Shit, I gotta run. Ma's holdin' dinner for me." She extends a hand to Mark. "See you around, Tammerly. It's been a slice."**

**She and Lacy share a fierce hug, then she's gone.**

**Mark watches her go. "Wait, wasn't she your ride?"**

**"Actually Peg was," Lacy says with a mischievous grin, "'til I told her I'd catch one with you instead."**

**He returns her grin with a mock scowl. "Just like that, huh? What's in it for me?"**

**"My undying gratitude, _and_ the last two pieces of Ma's cobbler."**

**Mark's scowl turns into a lopsided grin. "In that case, milady, your chariot awaits."**

* * *

**Lacy draws her knees up to her chest and begins rubbing her tired feet.**

**"You can rest 'em on the dash," Mark says, casting her a sideways look as he drives. "I know you eant to."**

**Her brows go up. "Seriously? Most guys hate when I do that."**

**"Not me," he assures her. "Merri does it all the time."**

**"Merri?" Lacy narrows her eyes at him, that one word dripping more acid than the beaker she'd cracked last year in Mr. Dempsey's chem lab.**

**"Short for Meredith. My younger sister, who hates wearing shoes as much as you do." He grins. "She'll get a kick out of you going all jealous on me."**

**"Whatever," Lacy mutters for lack of a more clever response. "I can't wait to meet her."**

**She puts her feet on the dash, which hikes her dress even more, and once again Mark tries not to stare at the perfection of her bare thighs.**

**"Thanks, Mark," she says, aware of – and not minding - his failed attempt not to ogle her legs. "My feet have been killin' me since I helped with the dinner rush earlier."**

**"Hey, no problem. Maybe someday I could be persuaded to massage them for you."**

**Lacy gives him a long, considering look, then nods. "An' maybe someday _I_ could be persuaded to let you." She smiles wistfully. "Just not tonight, 'cause right now you got a column to put to bed, an' I gotta go scare up some vittles for Grandpa and Hawkeye."**

**"Make sure you eat, too," Mark says, pulling into her driveway behind Grandpa's old Ford. "You must be famished."**

**"I am," she replies, his honest concern for her making her want to kiss him.**

**So she does, leaning across the gearshift console to give him a soft, shy peck on the lips.**

**"What was that for?" Mark asks, touched beyond words by the sweet gesture.**

**"For today," she says simply, her wide green eyes fixed on his face. "For lettin' me be your friend even if I can't be your sweetheart."**

**She kisses him again, this time on the cheek, then almost before he can blink she's out of the car and gone, with only the scent of her to remind him she was ever there.**

**Well that, and the memory of how it felt when she kissed him, the whisper-soft brush of her lips against his, and Mark Tammerly drives to the newspaper office unable to keep the damn smile off his face.**


	30. Chapter 30

** The Girl Who Hijacked A Column  **

**_MUSINGS FROM MARK_ **

**_by Mark Tammerly_ **

**_Wednesday, July 9, 1969_ **

**_Fair warning, dear readers, the column you are about to read – my first as a scribe for this paper - is not the column I originally set out to write._ **

**_That column, as directed by my editor, was to involve finding and describing the five top tourist attractions in Rebel Creek, a task I happily accepted._ **

**_There was only one problem._ **

**_Rebel Creek doesn't have five tourist attractions, which I discovered during my first-ever walk around town._ **

**_Or very many tourists, as one long-time regular here at Evvie's Place – an elderly gent everyone calls Speedy – was quick to point out when I first arrived and started asking questions._ **

**_"_ _You oughtta just write about this here cafe," he told me, and despite my initial skepticism, I soon realized he was right._ **

**_So what changed my mind, you ask?_ **

**_I fell in love._ **

**_Oh, not with a sweetheart, as one might expect, but with a place, this place, and that was before I'd even met Lacy or Peg, Evvie's daughters, or their grandpa, a delightful ex-Army man, Sherman T. Potter, who graciously allowed himself to be interviewed as part of my research._ **

**_"Don't call Grandpa delightful," Lacy says now, reading as I type, "or he'll have Hawkeye cut out your spleen."_ **

**_I don't doubt it._ **

**_She sets a fresh cup of coffee on the table, slides into the booth next to me, and tucks her bare feet up under her._ **

**_"Cool typewriter," she says, admiring my new Smith-Corona Sterling. "Makes mine look ancient."_ **

**_"Glad you like it," I tell her. "Now I know what to get you for Christmas."_ **

**_She stares at me with her captivating green eyes. "Seriously? Or are you just teasin' me?"_ **

**_"Seriodsly. I figure it's the least I can do after the way you stuck by me today, introducing me to everyone and fetching my coffee."_ **

**_"Oh, man."_ **

**_She kisses my cheek, still with that deer-in-the-headlights look on her face, then jumps up and flees back to the kitchen._ **

**_Well, damn. I think I've flustered her, which as anyone who knows Lacy Wilson can attest, is not an easy thing to do._ **

**_So let's see, where was I?_ **

**_Ah, yes. The people who make this place special are as follows:_ **

** _Evelyn Wilson, 43_ **

**_Proprietress of Evvie's Place who describes herself as, and I quote, "a middle-aged divorcee with three children, and if it'd been me who caught my naked husband with his doxie he'd be dead and I'd be a widow."_ **

**_Birthplace: Hannibal, Missouri_ **

**_Earliest memory: Being loved._ **

**_Secret to her success:_ _My family. It may be my name on the sign, but without my girls this place wouldn't function, and without my dad it wouldn't exist at all. It was his emotional and financial support during my divorce that kept me afloat._ **

**_Lacy: Ma, quit sellin' yourself short. It ain't Peg an' me cookin' the kick-ass food, or Grandpa workin' 12-hour days. It's you._ **

**_Evelyn: Maybe so, but y'all do your share and more. Next subject._ **

**_Biggest regret: Normally I'd say marrying Bob, but then I wouldn't have my kids. I guess what I regret almost more than his cheating is letting him stifle what Lacy calls my hippie spirit. I can only hope no one ever stifles hers. (To which Lacy replied, "Never gonna happen.")_ **

**_Asked to describe her children, she said, "Stuart is the quiet, introverted one, Peg is the conformist, and Lacy is the free-spirit who never backs down. If there was one person I could have at my side in a fight, it'd be her." (To which Lacy's best friend Josie added, "And you'd have me on your other side.")_ **

**_Hobbies: Bridge on Saturday nights, learning new recipes for the cafe, board games with my kids._ **

**_MT: Do you listen to music?_ **

**_Evelyn: Oh, sure. I love old Hollywood musicals, and anything by Frank Sinatra. And Lawrence Welk, much to the chagrin of my daughters._ **

**_Lacy: Lawrence Welk ain't music._ **

**_Evelyn: Neither is half the noise you listen to, so hush._ **

**_"Hush, nothing," Lacy said, the rest of her rejoinder cut short by the bell above the door as a new influx of diners entered the cafe and brought my interview with Evelyn to an early demise._ **

** _Col. Sherman T. Potter, 68_ **

**_A retired U.S. Army officer who saw action in WWI, WWII, and Korea. When asked for his views on Vietnam, he said, "I think it's a cockamamie war, but I'd go if they asked me."_ **

**_Birthplace: Hannibal, Missouri_ **

**_Married Mildred, the love of his life, on Feb. 2, 1925, remained married for 40 years until her death in early 1965. (In addition to Evelyn, their union produced a son, Ryan, who still resides in Hannibal with his wife and children.)_ **

**_MT: Tell me a little about your medical practice._ **

**_Col. Potter: Hung out my first shingle back in '32, took down the last one when my eyes started playin' tricks on me some eight years back. Had a damn good run while she lasted, though._ **

**_MT: How long were you the commanding officer at the 4077_ _th_ _?_ **

**_Col. Potter: From September of '52 'til the war ended._ **

**_Earliest memory: Son, I'm too damn old to remember what I had for breakfast this morning. Ask me something else._ **

**_MT: What did you have for breakfast this morning?_ **

**_Col. Potter: Smartass reporter. Bacon, eggs, and hash brown potatoes. Some OJ. And a shot of brandy in my coffee._ **

**_MT: The same stuff we toasted your friends with earlier?_ **

**_Col. Potter: Son, that's all I drink. Whyn't you tell folks that story, instead of asking me fool questions about breakfast?_ **

**_MT: I would be honored, sir._ **

**_As I was honored this afternoon when I first heard the tale, and took part in a very solemn moment._ **

**_There were five of us in the booth: the colonel and his Korean War buddy Hawkeye Pierce on one side, and Lacy, myself, and Josie facing them across the table._ **

**_At first we talked fishing, which nearly caused the girls to doze off with their tousled heads on my shoulders, but then Hawkeye brought up the time in WWI when Col. Potter and four of his cavalry buddies took refuge in a French chateau during heavy artillery fire._ **

**_One of them found a case of brandy, and the five of them spent the night in that abandoned chateau singing songs and drinking, and when they were down to the last bottle a pledge was made – a tontine, Hawkeye called it – wherein that bottle would be stored in a safe place, and when only one of them was left that man would open it and toast his fallen friends._ **

**_Fast-forward to Korea, when Sherman Potter learned that he was the one who outlived the others, and invited Hawkeye and several other members of his MASH unit to help him fulfill a promise made when he was – according to Lacy - only fifteen._ **

**_Fast-forward once more, to a small cafe in West Texas, where a flask was produced and the five of us – Lacy and Josie included – drank to the memory of four men who died too soon._ **

**_Ryan. Gianelli. Stein. And Grusky, the one Col. Potter considered his best friend._ **

**_Rest in peace, gentlemen._ **

** _Peggy Wilson, 21_ **

**_Lacy's older sister, who almost declined to be interviewed for this column, calling herself the boring one with short hair and bad taste in men. (To which Lacy replied, "You are so not boring.")_ **

**_Birthplace: Hannibal, Missouri_ **

**_Earliest memory: Getting stung by a wasp when she was three._ **

**_Biggest regrets: Dropping out of Texas State after only one semester, cutting her hair short, and letting jealousy and anger poison her relationship with her sister._ **

**_MT: What caused you to reconcile?_ **

**_Peggy: A punch in the nose and a fifth of Spearmint Schnapps._ **

**_(No further questions, Your Honor.)_ **

** _Josephine Ramey, 16  
_ **

**_Lacy's best friend, and the girl who serves me coffee and danish every morning at the Rexall lunch counter. She is never far from Lacy's side, and after witnessing the love and affection they share I can safely say that these two girls would kill for each other._ **

**_Or, as Speedy succinctly put it, "You don't want them two mad at you."_ **

**_Birthplace: Rutledge, Tennessee_ **

**_Earliest memory: Not sure this is the earliest one, but I totally remember my folks bringing Lisa home from foster care. She was a feisty little thing even back then, and her and me hit it off right quick._ **

**_MT: Do you have any other siblings?_ **

**_Josie: Unfortunately._ **

**_MT: How many?_ **

**_Josie: Just Brandon, but he ain't worth mentioning. Besides, Ma says I ain't supposed to talk about what a shit he is, so don't ask.  
_ **

**_MT: No fair, tossing a dog a bone like that and then taking it away._ **

**_Josie: It's my bone, Tammerly. Maybe one day I'll share it with you, but not for folks to read in the paper._ **

**_MT: Okay, I'm gonna hold you to that. In the meantime, name something about you, or something you've done, that most people don't know._ **

**_Josie: Can't think of anything, unless you count the time Lace an' me hitched to Slaton and back when we were twelve. But even that ain't no real secret, since our moms know.(grins) How's that for a bone?_ **

**_MT: Arf, arf._ **

** _Lacy Ann Wilson, 15_ **

**_Evelyn's youngest daughter, soon to begin her junior year at Rebel Creek High, co-founder (along with Josie) of her own marching band, and – after spending most of the day with her glued to my side – someone I consider a friend._ **

**_Birthplace: Hannibal, Missouri, but a Texas girl to the bone._ **

**_(A different bone, since Josie refuses to part with hers.)_ **

**_Earliest memory: Marking a wall with crayons when I was like two or something. I remember my dad slapping my butt and yelling. He tried to make me eat one of the crayons, but Ma stopped him._ **

**_MT: Describe your relationship with your father._ **

**_Lacy: I don't have one. He's an asshole who screwed around on my mom more than once, and now he acts like it's my fault he ain't here no more._ **

**_MT: Is it?_ **

**_Lacy: Shit, no! I mighta ran him off, but he brought it on his ownself._ **

**_MT: Can you tell our readers what happened that day?_ **

**_Lacy: I'll tell you. If you wanna put it in your column, that's up to you._ **

**_(See why I like this girl?)_ **

**_MT: Fair enough. So what did happen?_ **

**_Lacy: It was the day after Robert Kennedy was shot. I came home early from school 'cause our field trip got cancelled, and found my dad all bare-assed with some floozy I never seen before._ **

**_MT: Rumor has it you pointed a gun at him._ **

**_Lacy: sometimes rumors are true. Let's talk about somethin' else._ **

**_MT: We can do that. What's your favorite genre of music?_ **

**_Lacy: Genre? Seriously? Did they teach you that word in journalism school, or did your mom read you bedtime stories out of a thesaurus?_ **

**_MT: Ouch. Okay, let me rephrase that. What is your favorite kind of music?_ **

**_Lacy: I don't have one. If I hear a song I like, it don't matter who sings it._ **

**_MT: How about a favorite singer or group?_ **

**_Lacy: There's too many to pick just one. I like Jagger, CCR, Buffalo Springfield, and Barry McGuire...Joplin and Hendrix...And that don't even include the country artists I listen to._ **

**_MT: You've listed a veritable cornucopia of musicianship there, Miss Wilson. I am impressed._ **

**_Lacy: I'm gonna hit you._ **

**_MT: Will it hurt?_ **

**_Lacy: Ask Dewey Bowers._ **

**_MT: No, thank you. One Bowers sighting was enough for one day, and besides, I still have some more music-related questions for you._ **

**_Lacy: Okay._ **

**_MT: What type of stuff don't you like?_ **

**_Lacy: Punk, classical, and that shit they play on elevators._ **

**_MT: What is your current favorite song?_ **

**_Lacy: Quit tryin' to pin me down, okay? I'm not a one-song girl._ **

**_MT: Humor me._ **

**_Lacy: Okay, fine. If I gotta pick one song that's on the radio right now, then it would be 'In the Ghetto' by Elvis, which to be honest is pretty much the only song of his I ever liked._ **

**_MT: Same here. Okay, one last question. If you could say just one thing to the people reading this, what would it be?_ **

**_Lacy: Unprintable._ **

**_MT: Play nice._ **

**_Lacy: Okay, fine. Scoot over._ **

* * *

**_Howdy, y'all! I hope you don't mind me hijacking Mark's musings for a bit, but hey, it was his idea, so don't blame me._ **

**_I reckon y'all are gonna like this Tammerly guy, even if he don't wear socks and talks like a Yankee._ **

**_Hell, I don't wear socks, neither, so whatever._ **

**_Anyway, thanks for reading his column, and not just 'cause it's about me and the folks I love best in the whole world. (And Stuart, if you ever see this, you know that means you, too.)_ **

**_PS – Thank you, Mark, for the great write-up, and thank you, Lou Tammerly, for giving your nephew this chance. If you're smart you won't cut a single word, not even the cuss ones._ **

**_Okay, that's it for me. Mark wants his pretty typewriter back, and besides, you folks probably got better things to do than read what I got to say._ **

**_Later, y'all!_ **


	31. Chapter 31

** Almost Sorta Famous **

** _Wednesday, July 9, 1969 - 4am.  
_ **

**Lacy had come awake in the dark, slick with sweat and still horny from her most recent – and most intense – sex dream about Riley.**

**After a quick trip across the hall to pee, she'd padded back to her room and taken care of her _other_ urge a bit more slowly.**

**Now, half an hour later, she finds herself slightly short of breath and unable to fall back asleep, thanks in part to her piece-of-shit air conditioner no longer blowing any air whatsoever.**

**Between that and her excitement over Mark Tammerly's column appearing later today, it's a wonder she'd slept at all.**

**_Just get up already._ **

**Lacy swings her bare legs off the side of her bed, curls her toes into the plush carpeting, and glares at the air conditioner.**

**"I should fetch Daddy's pistol and put you out of my misery," she tells it, then peels off her damp white tee and heads back across the hall to shower the sweat off her body.**

* * *

**"Don't you ever wear clothes?"**

**Lacy, standing in front of the closet in just her maroon gym shorts, looks over her shoulder to see Peg gazing at her from the doorway to her room.**

**"Only when I have to."**

**She yanks one of her _Lady Renegades_ crop tops – also maroon – off its hanger and slips it over her head, then pulls her damp hair from under the collar.**

**Peg's dramatic sigh from the doorway earns her an amused look from Lacy.**

**"Now what'd I do?"**

**"Nothing. You just have no idea how jealous it makes me every time I see you do that."**

**Lacy feigns innocence. "Me putting on a shirt makes you jealous?"**

**"Not the shirt part, goof. The part where you free your hair from under the collar."**

**Lacy grins. "Serves your ass right. I still can't believe you let Ricky Austen talk you into scalping yourself like that."**

**"You hush," Peggy warns, shooting her a mock glare. "I was crazy in love with his fake charm and flashy clothes."**

**"And his cherry-red Mustang," Lacy teases. "The same one he drove Sherry Chan to the cafe in last week."**

**Peg's eyes widen in shock. "He's doing it with Sherry now? But she's only nineteen, and her hair's as long as yours!" She takes a deep breath to calm herself. "Did he say anything about me?"**

**Lacy shakes her head. "Not a word. He was too busy to say shit about anything."**

**"Too busy how?"**

**"Just busy, okay? They were kissin', and he had his hand up under her skirt." Then, with her own dramatic sigh, she adds, "Made my nipples hard just watchin' 'em."**

**"Your nipples get hard when the wind blows," her sister retorts. "But seriously, someone should warn that girl about Ricky's evil ways."**

**"Someone already did. I told her about his bullshit with you, an' how if he ever asks her to cut her hair she should run like hell."**

**"Oh, man. How'd that go over?"**

**"'Bout like you'd expect. They started fussin' at each other, he told her to go fuck herself _and_ her hair, then took off an' left her sittin' there in the booth."**

**Peg arches a brow. "No shit? Good for her."**

**Lacy grins. "For me, too. I made a friend and a five-dollar tip all at the same time."**

* * *

**By seven, with Evelyn on her way to open the cafe and Peg back in bed, Lacy sits on the front porch steps painting her toes with the same peach-colored polish she'd gotten at the Rexall, feeling a bit put out that no one but her seems to care about their impending notoriety.**

**_Ma'd be psyched too,_ she tells herself, _'cept she's gotta work. An' Peggy cares more'n she lets on._**

**Now, done with her nails, Lacy caps the polish and sighs, feeling suddenly melancholy for no reason she can think of.**

**Then she hears Josie's Camaro before she sees it, Steppenwolf's _Born To Be Wild_ waking the neighborhood as the car pulls into the driveway and stops next to Peggy's El Camino.**

**"Lacy!" Lisa cries happily, out of the Camaro and running at her even before Josie has time to rev the engine once and cut the ignition.**

**Lacy just manages =to brace herself as the younger girl collides with her in a fierce hug that has her grinning.**

**"I love you, too," she says into Lisa's tousled hair. "But what brought _that_ on?"**

**"You looked sad," Lisa answers, breaking their embrace. "An' I missed you."**

**"You did? But we just seen each other like Saturday or something."**

**"To her that was forever ago," Josie says, joining them on the steps and pulling Lacy into a slightly less-aggressive hug. "An besides, you an' me just saw each other yesterday, an' I still missed the hell outta you."**

**"Y'all are sweet," Lacy tells them. "Now hush before I cry all over both of you."**

**"I wouldn't mind if you did," Josie says. "It'd give me an excuse to comfort you."**

**"Y'all need to get a room," Lisa informs them, then eyes the fresh coat of polish on Lacy's toes. "I like that color. Can I borrow it?"**

**"Sure," Lacy replies. "How 'bout if I paint your nails for you? I been dyin' to get my hands on those naked toes of yours."**

**"Now who needs a room?" Josie teases, then notices the girl pedaling a ten-speed up the street toward them. "Who's that bringin' the paper? Almost looks like Tammerly, except with way more hair and bigger boobs."**

**"I reckon that's Meredith," Lacy says as the bike rolls to a stop in front of them. "Mark's younger sister."**

**"Call me Merri," the girl says. "Everyone else does."**

**Like the three girls studying her from the porch, she is barefoot, wearing barely-there jean shorts and a white sleeveless blouse tied-off loosely under her clearly-unharnessed breasts.**

**"You sure don't _dress_ like a city girl," Josie remarks, her bold gaze taking in every inch of Merri's tanned, freckled skin.**

**"'Cause I'm not," Merri shoots back, her own unblinking gaze just as curious. "Mark an' me grew up in Slaton."**

**This gets Lacy's attention. "You're from Slaton too? I just met a guy from there, he's a little older than us."**

**"What's his name?"**

**"Riley Tucker. He was on his way to some boot camp out west."**

**Merri gapes at her. "You know Riley? Damn, Sandy's gonna shit when I tell her, she hasn't heard from him in a coon's age."**

**And Lacy, who has no idea how long a coon's age might be, nevertheless feels a sharp pang of jealousy in her gut.**

**Her eyes go narrow. "Who's Sandy?"**

**Before Merri can answer her, Lisa sings out, "Lacy is jealous, Lacy is jealous," and Lacy smacks her on the arm.**

**"I am not! An' who the hell asked you, anyway?"**

**Merri grins. "Retract them claws, girl. Sandy is Riley's cousin, me an' her been best friends since our mamas plopped us in the same busted playpen together."**

**"Okay," Lacy concedes, "but since when does Riley have a cousin? He made it sound like no one in Slaton cared about him anymore."**

**Merri shakes her head so hard her ponytail whips from side to side.**

**"Sandy cares, an' so do I. It's the grown-ups who fucked shit up between them."**

**"How?" Josie cuts in, and Merri blows a stray strand of hair off her nose.**

**"By being stupid. Sandy's mom and Riley's mom were sisters, but mostly they got along like two wet cats in a sack. And a couple months before Riley's parents died they quit talking altogether, and Sandy's mom forbade her from being friends with Riley, or even talking to him."**

**"Jesus," Lacy mutters. "I woulda called him when no one else was around to hear, or wrote him a damn letter at least."**

**Again Merri shakes her head. "Both numbers got changed, and the two letters Sandy did write came back unopened. She figures they got intercepted."**

**"That's fucked," Lacy says, shaking her own head. Then, almost not wanting to know, she asks, "How'd Riley's folks die? He never said."**

**"Car wreck," Merri says softly. "His dad swerved to avoid a deer and slammed head-on into a tree."**

**"Oh, man." Lacy looks down at her toes, heart-sore for Riley all over again. "When did it happen?"**

**"Right before Christmas. They were on their way home from a party." Seeing the look that passes between Lacy and Josie, she adds, "It wasn't like that, okay? Rick and Annette were teetotalers, and Rick never drank at all if he was driving."**

**"For all the good bein' sober did him that time." Lacy leans back, resting her elbows on the step behind her. "An' I'm bettin' the accident didn't make his aunt any less hateful towards Riley."**

**Merri scoffs. "Are you kidding? It made her worse. Sandy heard her at the funeral, sayin' how there wasn't no deer, that Rick musta been either drunk or high, and that anyone who says different is a fool."**

**"Somebody should slap her!" Lisa cries, so agitated she jumps to her feet and glares at them from the bottom step.**

**"Sandy almost did," Merri tells her. "But she didn't wanna cause a scene in front of Riley."**

**Lacy narrows her eyes. "Wait a minute. You mean Riley actually heard that shit? In _church?_ "**

**"Every fucking word."**

**"Jeez," Lacy mutters. Then, needing to change the subject, she gestures at the canvas bag still slung over Merri's shoulder. "What's in there?"**

**"Oh, yeah." Merri smiles, relieved to talk about her reason for coming. "These are for you."**

**She dips her shoulder and lets the bag hit the gravel next to her bare left foot.**

**Lacy pushes herself up off the steps and walks over to where Merri straddles her black Schwinn. She nudges the bag with her toe.**

**_"These,_ huh? Like in more than one?"**

**Merri nods. "Yeah, way more. You got eleven copies, ten free ones plus the one you're supposed to get."**

**Lacy arches a brow. "How come that many? Last I checked, most folks can only read one paper at a time."**

**"They ain't all for you," Josie calls out behind her. "Them extra ones are for people like your grandpa and Hawkeye who don't normally read the _Gazette._ "**

**"Or like Riley," Lisa adds helpfully, and Lacy feels herself blush.**

**"You hush or I'll spank you," she tells the grinning girl, which earns her a mock glare from Josie.**

**"How come you never offer _me_ that option? 'Fraid I'll like it?"**

**"I _know_ you'll like it," she retorts. "Me likin' it too is what scares me. _"_**

**"Y'all play nice," Merri says, their easy banter and camaraderie making her smile.**

**"What if we can't?" Josie challenges, flashing her own crooked smile.**

**Merri appears to think it over. "Well, I ain't always nice my ownself, so maybe we should all play naughty."**

**Dead silence greets this, then Lisa rolls her eyes.**

**"We're gonna need a bigger room," she says almost to herself, and Merri – only now realizing what she just said – feels her cheeks flush.**

**"Man, I can't believe I just said that."**

**"Hey, don't sweat it," Lacy says, touching her arm in sympathy. "And welcome to my world."**

**"Thanks, I think," Merri replies with a wry grin. "But hey, I meant what I said a minute ago about hanging out, if y'all don't mind adding me to your crowd."**

**"For sure," Lacy assures her, then surprises them both by wrapping Merri in an impulsive hug.**

**Lisa and Josie join in, and then== for a while the four of them stand there in Lacy's driveway just chatting, until finally Merri looks at her watch and sighs.**

**"What's wrong?" Lacy asks. "We keepin' you from a hot date or something?"**

**Merri laughs."Not even, but Uncle Lou's expecting me back at the paper. I'd better go before he sends Mark to fetch me."**

**After vowing to keep in touch and sharing another group hug, they watch Merri pedal away, and when she pauses at the end of the driveway to wave, all three girls holler out a good-bye.**

**"I like her," Josie says when Merri is too far off to hear. "We should ask her to sit with us come fall."**

**"I like her, too," Lacy affirms. "But the way y'all were checkin' each other out, you an' me both know who needs to get themselves a damn room."**

**"You be quiet." Josie reaches down and hefts the canvas bag, then resumes her spot on the porch steps. "Time to see how bad Mark's uncle fucked with his column."**

**So Lacy and Lisa join her, and as Lacy reads her copy for the second time her heart fills with pride, not just for herself but for her family, and the two girls on either side of her, and mostly for Mark, whose uncle liked his words so much he didn't cut a single one.**

* * *

**Afternoon finds Lacy on the front lawn under the sprinkler, lying on her tummy with her bikini top untied and her wet hair gathered to one side and off her bare back.**

**Drowsy and content, she listens as two old ladies who aren't Mavis and Mabel catch sight of her from the sidewalk.**

**"Ain't that her, Ethel? The girl that reporter fella put in his new column?"**

**"Yeah, Lucy, I reckon that's her."**

**_Lucy and Ethel? Seriously?_ **

**"Is she naked?"**

**"Course not. She's wearin' one a them new-fangled bathing suits, what the young folks call a bikini."**

**"Don't care what they call it, it ain't proper. And besides, now that she's almost sorta famous, shouldn't she oughtta cover herself? She has a reputation to uphold now."**

**_I sure do,_ Lacy thinks as a small smile curves her lips. _An' whether y'all like it or not, I'm upholdin' it just fine._**


	32. Chapter 32

**Getting The Last Word**

**_Thursday, July 10, 1969 – 7:55am._ **

**The phone rings as Lacy enters the kitchen fresh from her shower and wrapped in a towel that just manages to cover what it's supposed to. She snatches up the receiver before either Ma or Peg, sipping coffee at the table, even know she's there.**

**"Hello?"**

**"Yes, hi. This is Lou Tammerly calling for Lacy Wilson."**

**"This is her," Lacy replies, feeling an excited tingle down around her belly button. "How can I help you?"**

**"Well first of all, young lady, I want to thank you and your family for the hospitality shown to my nephew the other day. Y'all helped make his inaugural column an unqualified success."**

**Lacy shakes her head, blonde hair falling into her eyes. "Mark done that all by himself, mostly, an' _you_ done good by not cuttin' stuff out."**

**He chuckles in her ear. "Hey, even an old newshound like me knows when to take the advice of a pretty girl. Especially," he adds, clearly amused with her, "when that girl has the moxie to tell him how he should edit his own paper."**

**Lacy feels herself blush. "You're laughing at me!"**

**"No ma'am, I am not." His voice turns serious. "I would never do that to someone I wish to employ."**

**_Wait, what?_ **

**Before she can re-gather her scattered wits, he chuckles again. "Ah, so my nephew is not the only one to render you speechless, I see."**

**"Don't get used to it," she mutters. "Y'all just caught me off-guard, is all."**

**"No doubt," Lou agrees, but his next question has her gaping at the phone. "So, my dear, may I ask what you're wearing?"**

**This time Lacy finds her voice. "Why? You ain't some pervert in a trenchcoat, are you?"**

**Now Ma and Peggy are the ones gaping, and Lou Tammerly's explosive laugh is the last thing Lacy expects from him right then.**

**"Ha! Miss Wilson, that was priceless, and you are even more of a gem than my nephew let on. But let me assure you that, while I do occasionally don a trenchcoat during inclement weather, I generally prefer clothes under mine."**

**"Too bad," Lacy says, back on her game again. "An' here I was, all set to drop my skimpy towel just for you an' let you breathe heavy in my ear."**

**"Lacy Ann Wilson!" Evelyn gasps from the table, but all Lacy hears is the utter, vindicating silence coming from Lou's end of the** **line.**

**"See you in an hour," she says sweetly, and hangs up on him.**

* * *

**Forty-seven minutes later, Lacy – now wearing sandals and the same sundress she'd worn Tuesday – enters the front door of the newspaper office and looks around.**

**The reception area is nothing like she expected, clean and uncluttered with not a printing press in sight.**

**And Merri, grinning at her from behind a battered metal desk.**

**"'Bout time you got here. Boss man keeps ringin' my phone to see if the new girl – that's you, by the way – is here yet."**

**Lacy rolls her eyes. "First off, I told him an hour, so it ain't like I'm late, an' besides, how can I be his 'new girl' if I haven't even met the man? All we did so far is talk on the phone."**

**Merri's grin widens. "Uh-huh. And whatever you said at the end of that call had him in there talkin' to himself and laughing like an idiot."**

**"I do that all the time," a male voice says, and Lacy looks over to see Lou Tammerly standing in the doorway to his private office with a warm smile on his face.**

**And wearing a trenchcoat Sherlock Holmes himself would kill for.**

**She stares at him wide-eyed, then laughs happily. "Got me good, didn't you?"**

**Lou grins. "Yes, ma'am, I did."**

**"But you coulda got me even better," she says, "if you'da rolled up your pants and come out of your office barefooted."**

**"I thought of that, but with my luck some humorless biddy like Gertrude Peabody would have shown up on her broom and gotten the wrong idea." He looks at his watch as Lacy and Merri both giggle at his apt description of Rebel Creek's resident busybody. "Now let's get you in here so we can hash out the fine points of your impending servitude."**

**And just like that, Lacy lands her first honest-to-God writing gig.**

* * *

**"So how'd it go?" Evelyn asks as soon as Lacy comes into the cafe a short time later and kicks off her sandals. "Did he hire you?"**

**"Oh, man!" the girl cries, unable to contain her excitement. "Ma, you are lookin' at the newest member of the _Rebel Creek Gazette._ "**

**"Well, congratulations," Evelyn says, setting a glass of lemonade in front of her as Lacy perches herself at the counter. "What will you be doing?"**

**"Helping Mark with his column, research an' like that, but the best part is, I get to write my own stuff, too."**

**"Oh, honey, that's wonderful! Will you have your own byline?"**

**Lacy shakes her head. "No, but sorta. It'll still be part of what Mark writes, only right at the end." She grins. "I'm gonna call it _Lacy's Last Word._ "**

**"Of course you are." Evelyn reaches out to ruffle her daughter's hair, then frowns as something occurs to her. "But wait. Is this a free-lance position, or am I about to lose my best waitress?"**

**Again Lacy shakes her head. "Neither. I can write my part from home, and my hours at the office are like 4-to-6 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."**

**"That's not so bad," Evelyn concedes. "How much is he paying you?"**

**"Two bucks an hour," Lacy says proudly. "An' a free half-page ad for the cafe every Friday."**

**Evelyn's jaw drops. "Are you serious? That's insane." She slaps a guest-check pad on the counter next to Lacy's glass. "Now grab a pen and write something before the man changes his mind."**


End file.
